


Cabin in the Woods (Clockwork)

by skyesu_arts



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Clockwork - Freeform, Clockwork creepypasta, Creepypasta, F/F, Fluff, Gay, LGBTQ, Lesbian, Log Cabin, Natalie Ouellette, OC, Psychopath, Romance, Serial Killer, Time - Freeform, Violence, cabin in the woods, cleaver
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-02-08 22:34:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 31
Words: 28,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12874476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyesu_arts/pseuds/skyesu_arts
Summary: Where is Clockwork? Where is Clockwork?Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock.Climbing through your window,Too late! Now she's in toStop your clock. Stop your clock.Where is Alex? Where is Alex?Damn, who knows? Damn, who knows?Curled up in her annex,Probably needs some Xanax.Soon she goes. Soon she goes.





	1. Chapter 1

I checked the small clock on my desk one last time before I suspected I'd be out. 2:05. Huh.  _Insomnia has it out for me tonight._  I considered turning the light on and grabbing my sketchbook; I had too much bouncing around in my head. But my body wouldn't move. Drowsiness was holding it down, and I couldn't lift my arm if I tried. I sighed, my attention steering back toward the ceiling as I felt myself sinking into sleep.

Nevermind.

_Ugh. Can I get a good night's sleep for once? Just one damn time._  There was a ringing in my head, and it seemed to taunt me as I jerked awake again, almost falling asleep.  _Somebody really doesn't want me to be a healthy person._

_Creak..._

My torso shot up and I pressed my body against the wall near my bedroom window, breathing quickly and shallowly. I guess my body decided to be useful now, somehow. I was positive the creak had come from my window. It was too loud to dismiss, but not enough to wake someone up. Not that it mattered; I lived alone, so if some insane druggie tried to kill me now, I wouldn't be able to do anything but call the police to save my butt.

_Snap._

Shit. Shit. Someone was definitely breaking in. I always thought I'd know exactly what to say and do in this kind of situation; I rehearsed it in my head! I watched videos on surviving grim scenarios. But now, my body was frozen plastered to the wall, and my head was reeling to no conclusion. I couldn't act. I couldn't even hide or grab my phone. Hell, I was even breathing way too loudly.  _I'm not built for this crap. Kill someone else, please._

"Interesting."

I clamped a hand over my mouth, too terrified to look or even turn my head in the figure's way. They were now standing in my room, at the foot of my bed, whispering like they were at a mischievous sleepover. I couldn't hear anything threatening or formidable in their tone; only curiosity. I still couldn't move. I was a freaking squirrel. A deer in a headlight. Something like that.

"Can't get much sleep either, eh?" The person asked nonchalantly. My eyes quickly darting in their direction, I could see their silhouette, which was leaning casually over the edge of my bed. Remarkably, I couldn't think of a single serial killer who engaged in casual conversation with victims before their ultimate demise. It didn't seem unlikely that someone would do that, though.

Suddenly, I felt the weight on the mattress shift; they were crawling towards me. Slowly, steadily, dangerously. I couldn't make out their face, but it wasn't long before I heard their breathing close to mine. I saw something glitter and reflect the moonlight on their face for a split second.  _But...that's where someone's eye would be. Eyes don't reflect stuff like...glass...?_

Before I could take anything else in, I felt something cold and sharp against my throat.  _I'm not ready, it can't end now! This is it. This is the end. I never got to do so many things. I didn't live my life yet._

The person chuckled. "I bet I could help you get to sleep quicker," they muttered in my ear.


	2. Chapter 2

I did what any sensible person would do in a situation where a person with a possible glass eye is about to slit your throat at 2:00 at night.

I tried to negotiate with this killer.

"Wait," I whimpered, my voice almost gone. "Wait."

They looked at me almost expectantly, then burst into a fit of silent giggles. "You're trying to reason with me...?  _Negotiate_  with  _me_? Sweetie..." they laughed cruelly again, and I sat there silently, trying to think of something else to say while they continued.

"Are you just as stupid as the rest? You can't bargain with a killer. Just what are you playing at here..." The person relaxed the knife at my neck, allowing me to speak.  _Well, you can't reason with a killer apparently, but they do seem curious. At least I delayed it a little._  
I took a shaky breath. "I-I'm not going to fight you. You obviously could just finish me off anytime. I won't try to call the police on you or anything..." I looked at them cautiously, and they slowly nodded, signaling me to go on.  _Probably should just keep it short and sweet. If I talk for too long, they'll just finish me right then._

"But for just a couple minutes...can I just grab my phone real quick...?"

I felt the edge of the knife press into my skin harder. "You really think I'm going to give you your phone? How  _stupid_  do you think I am, dipshit?" They grit their teeth, a grin slowly spreading in their face.

I gasped for air. "I'm not going to c-call the cops! I-I swear! I just...look, I'll let you press the buttons. I just wanted to listen to some music..." I finished pathetically.  _Jesus, I sound lame._

I felt their gaze gnawing at me until they finally lifted the blade and rolled their eyes -- well, eye. "I can't believe I'm doing this for a  _mortal_. Fine!" They groaned. "I'll let you cling to your life for a couple minutes longer. But just know..." they held up two blades up to the light, the metal shining dangerously. "One little trick from you, and your time is  _up_." They giggled again, a little louder.

I gulped. "Got it." I reached out my hand slowly to grab it from my desk, but a gloved hand slammed mine down before it moved more than an inch.

"What do you think you're doing, dimwit?" They cocked their head. "Just tell me where the thing is and I'll get it for you. I push the buttons,  _right_?" I quickly nodded. "O-of course. Sorry."

They slowly stood up off the bed, dusting themselves off. They put their hands on their hips expectantly. " _Well?_ "

"Oh, it's, uh, just on the desk..." I said quietly, inclining my head.

They snatched the phone up before pausing. "And headphones, I'm guessing."

"S-sure."

They grabbed my steampunk-decorated earbuds and examined them. "Ha. These are keepers," they muttered before harshly jamming them into the headphone jack and handing the phone to me.

I hesitantly grabbed it before hastily typing the passcode and offering it back to her. "Uh, Spotify please..." I muttered quickly. "Do...do you want me to pick the--"

"Just say which song, sweetcheeks," they growled irritably, tossing the earbuds at me and plopping back onto the bed next to me.

"O-okay. I guess... _Flamingo_ , then," I stuttered, putting the earbuds in. I was quickly met with a painful blast of "How many shrimps," and practically jumped.

The killer laughed smugly. "How's full volume for you."

I shot them an irritated look, and they reluctantly turned the volume down.

After the nasty shock, I found myself relaxing to the song. Shortly before the chorus of "Black, white, green, or blue..." I looked over at them with a pang of guilt. I knew better than to try to be amiable with someone who was about to slice my throat open, but I shyly offered them an earbud anyway. "Do you...want to listen too...?" I held it out with a shaky hand.

They looked at me funnily. I noticed their knives were no longer in hand, but tucked safely away (I hoped) somewhere. They closed their eyes for a couple of seconds. "Sure," they muttered, their voice dripping with boredom and sarcasm. They took the earbud anyway.

On the bright side; just in time for the chorus.

Near the end of the song, when my thoughts were roaming free instead of taking in the bright, bubbly lyrics, I thought to myself,  _One of the nicer ways to die. After being calmed down by Kero Kero Bonito._  I looked over to the person.

Their eye was closed from what I could see, and they had a neutral, almost zen-like expression on their face.

I couldn't help but start to feel anxious about this.

I slowly took out my earbud as the song came to a close, and scanned the options of what to do in my brain.

Before I could come up with any gruesome outcomes, they shut my phone off and took their earphone out, turning to me with an unreadable expression. The glass object they had in place of an eye seems to glint, and they reached for something around their belt.

"Well," they started quietly, "what a shame. You're certainly not as stubborn...or annoyingly frightened...or pleading...or  _pitiful_  as most of my victims..." they inched closer, drawing out one of the knives they had stowed away. "It does almost make me regret..." they pressed it to my neck again, tilting their head contemplatively. "...having to cut your time  _short_  like all the rest."

A rush of adrenaline suddenly pulsed through me, as if telling me to deck them here and now, but I repressed it. "R-right," I muttered, squeezing my eyes shut in anticipation. I felt my heart racing and my hands turning cold. This was it.

"Which is why I won't."


	3. Chapter 3

I felt a bruise forming on my neck and a rush of air blow into my lungs. I took a long deep breath before processing what just happened.

"Wh...what...?" I realized that the person had just pulled the knife away, and my hands immediately flew to my neck. I withdrew, and  dotting my palm was a dark liquid. But instead of launching into a panicked spiral, all I could think was,  _I'm alive. I didn't die. They didn't kill me._

My gaze shot up to them. They were standing near the bed, still twirling the blood-smeared knife between their fingers. I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding, and rubbed my neck protectively. "What did...you're...I..." I swallowed a lump growing in my throat.

"You heard me," they retorted gruffly. " _You_ , you lucky brat, aren't going to die tonight. Do I make myself clear?" They folded their arms and leaned forward to narrow their eye at me.

I bit my lip and nodded, even though I wasn't taking in a word they said.  _What? Why? What's their problem? Do they have some sort of pop-music fetish or something?!_

"You...y-you're  _sparing_ me? M-my life? Are you...?" I put a hand to my forehead in disbelief.

"Don't get used to it, sweetie." I was positive they were pulling some sort of twisted, knowing grin. I gripped the bedsheets, becoming somehow more terrified than before. "But... _why?!_  To-to torture me?"

They let out a positive bark of laughter. "I'm not obligated to  _ever_ make my reasons clear to you, hun. Ask no questions and I'll tell you no lies," they said, pausing their knife-twirling to flip it back into some invisible pocket. "In any case...you're coming with me." They extended their hand with a smirk, the smooth object in their right eye socket gleaming. I stared at it, and noticed a tiny black sliver shifting rhythmically from the center, a soft ticking sound emulating with each movement.

_Is that...a clock?_

"Who--no,  _what_  are you?" I demanded. I sat up frustratedly. This was weird enough as it is, but someone having some sort of metaphorical clock for an eye was a little too much for me to stand. "Are you even human?"

They scoffed and retracted their hand. "Sweetie, that should be the least of your worries right now. You see," they dodged my question casually, gesturing at their mouth, "it's either come with me--the more pleasant option...or, if you'd prefer..." they shifted into the moonlight, letting me catch a glimpse of their face, and I understood why their mouth would stand out. I held back a gasp as I saw the flesh at each corner of their lips stitched up like a scarecrow.

"...you could continue to be ungrateful and stubborn, and end up looking a little more gruesome than most of my kills. Your choice." They almost seemed to say it regretfully, like they had no choice but to do one or the other either.  _Maybe they just want to torture me more. They wouldn't have time to do that if they just killed me off now._

I put my hands over my mouth and nodded compliantly. "Mhmm," I almost whimpered through my hands.  
They smirked, narrowing their eye, which made their face look all the more contorted and painful. The way their mouth was upturned but the stitches remained stationary seemed excruciating, and there were no visible eyelids on the clock, so only one eye could close.  _How did they end up like that, anyway?_ But I knew better than to ask any more questions.

I glanced to the side, eyeing my phone which they left on the bed, along with my headphones. "C-can I at least bring my phone with m-me...?" I asked hesitantly, my eyes darting in between them and the phone.

They sniffed impatiently. "Fine. But don't even  _think_  about calling the damn police. Once, I disarmed and killed a whole squad." They giggled like a little kid, making me shift away and grab my phone before I forgot. "That was fun," they finished quietly, making their way to the window before turning and smirking at me.

"After you,  _human_."


	4. Chapter 4

I looked at them exasperatedly. They let out a scoff and waved their hand dismissively. "Kidding. I'm not going to make you jump out of a window yet." They looked down, scratching their chin. "Though...it isn't  _really_  that high, come to think of it."

"Do you at least have a ladder or something?" I asked somewhat desperately. "If I'm being forced to come with some serial killer, I'd like to do it with as little injury as possible, please..." I shuddered at their comment.  _Did they actually say 'yet' or am I just being too paranoid?_

"Ah, don't worry about it. It's just climbing, sweetheart," they said, hoisting themselves partially through the ripped window screen. My heart started beating out of my chest at the prospect of climbing all the way down the building from my apartment window. "C-can't we just go out through the front door? It could be a  _little_  easier--" I shut my mouth as they gave me a penetrating glare. They laughed unsympathetically. "Kid, trust me. You don't want me to go into what could happen if we put ourselves in plain view. This city has a police station a couple blocks down, right?"

I slowly nodded. "But you said-- I mean, couldn't you just take them ou--"

"Sure! If you want to be part of the slaughter," they ended with a growl. When I opened my mouth at a loss for words, they smirked at me like I was a little kid. "I've got a reputation to uphold." And with that, they jumped. I stepped back and put a hand over my chest. "O-okay," I muttered.  _Can't I just...stay here? I could block the window if they come back, or--_

I felt a gloved hand roughly grab mine, and jumped when I saw them leaning through the window frame like it was morning coffee. "And I  _definitely_  can't have that rep tainted by having people think that I take prisoners. Or even let some people live, if I take a...personal liking to them." They seemed to grin maniacally at me, and I held my tongue.

"Now get climbing," they reinforced gruffly, yanking on my arm hard.

I almost sighed in relief when I found there was just a rope tied to my window panel.  _Well, as if they'd actually make me cling to the bricks to get down if they really wanted me alive this badly_. I swallowed the lump in my throat and reluctantly swung my legs over the ledge, trying not to look down as I located the rope.

Not that surprisingly, the "killer" made it so I would be the first one to reach the bottom. I internally protested that while yes, it would prevent me from trying to get back into my room, I could always just gun it to the woods behind me without them.

_But they could probably catch up to you too quickly. They probably know the woods better than you do, don't they?_

I decided to compliantly stay put until they got down, which was with more agility than I thought.  _Then again, they are a serial killer._

"Alright, come on. We don't have all night," they hissed, grabbing my arm again and moving full speed without making a sound towards the woods that were somehow even darker than the night.

While they were able to sprint without cracking a single branch or stepping on a single rotted leaf, I was tripping up every second. It surprised me when they didn't stop once to criticize me, but only seemed to get faster, dragging me along. I found myself coughing from the whipping chilly air, but they didn't slow down a bit.

I felt too relieved when they finally stopped in what seemed like the darkest, deepest parts of the forest, and I automatically slumped over against a tree, wheezing and not even looking towards them for instruction.

"You people are so  _weak_ ," was all they muttered. Suddenly feeling frustrated, I glared at them when I was done catching my breath. "Hey, it's not that easy being dragged along into the forest at 2:00 in the morning. What do you think I am, an Olympic contestant?!"

"Absolutely not, from what I've gathered," they retorted snidely, removing a leather glove and picking at one of their fingernails.

I grumbled something under my breath, to which I almost heard their head snap towards me. "Sorry, what was that?" They asked softly, danger lining their voice.

"I said 'good,'" I uttered, my hands growing sweaty.  _Ugh, why did I even try talking back. They could just kill me at any moment!_

I glanced up to see them folding their arms, looming over me. Up until now, I had assumed nothing about their appearance until they showed me their horrific stitched mouth and clock-eye. One thing I had always known in the back of my mind, however, was that they were most likely wearing a hood from the beginning. I wasn't sure how to feel about the fact that they did.

They pulled back their black hoodie, and revealed their nest of a hairstyle. It looked like it was naturally wavy, and it couldn't have been longer than shoulder-length, but there were random chunks that had been lopped off, and it was sticking up all over the place to make this person more insane than they had originally come off as. I gulped, not being too sure why.  _It's just hair. It's not like their scalp's bleeding or something._

And then I noticed the rest of their face. It was the same as before, obviously. But I had only paid attention to the horror-like features of it, and never really noticed it as a whole.

From what I could tell in the moonlight, they had medium-toned skin, and electrifying green eyes. Their face was sharp, smooth, and calculating, like some murderous baking show judge. If not for the stitches, the clock, and the overall insane, cruel killer aura, I might have said they were beautiful.

I suddenly remembered something I had seen in my previous lonely life, something I had researched and dismissed as some pretentious myth, only to be terrified at the prospect of ticking clocks for the rest of my days.

I forced myself to look at the clock in place of their--no,  _her_  eye. I took a shaky breath while she looked at me expectantly.

"Are you Clockwork?" I whimpered.

I was met with a chilling, maniacal grin.


	5. Chapter 5

"No."

That was the first thing to come out of my mouth.

"That's... _no_ ," I whispered, struggling to stand up. "You...you  _can't_...be--"

"Can't be  _what_ , hun?" She asked snidely, running the blunt edge of the knife across her stitches.

I inhaled deeply, and pointed a shaking finger at Clockwork accusingly. "You can't be  _real!_ " I almost yelled. She frowned, and held the tip of her knife up to my chin. "Quiet, dumbass. Are you  _trying_  to get a gag in your mouth?" She hissed. I froze, and considered nodding to get her away from me; her face was inching close to mine, held in an angry grimace. But that would only get me cut.  _Third time tonight. Jesus Christ._

What I didn't seem to notice was that her expression had softened, and that our faces were almost touching. I suddenly looked up from the knife to her, and noticed that her eye was half closed.

_God, what's she going to do n--_

I held my breath as she planted a kiss on my nose.

She stepped back, her expression serious and stone-like. After seconds of me standing there, frozen, and probably pale as hell, she let out a loud giggle and brushed the knife against my cheek. "You're a fucking  _squirrel_ ," she said giddily.

_This girl is actually insane_.

I heaved a couple breaths, stepping back, pressed up against the tree. "Wh-what do you even  _want_  from me?" I asked quietly. "Why do you..."

Clockwork's menacing glare returned, and she grabbed my arm again. Tight.

"Your break's over. We're moving." And with that, we were running again.

_So much for insane killer._

This time though, Clockwork didn't run nearly as fast. She periodically looked back at me, her eyes narrowed and calculating.  _What's there to check? I'm not just going to escape at any given moment. Besides, she's holding my arm._

_Where is she even taking me?_

I eyed her cautiously, not knowing whether to ask or not.

"Uh...c-can you tell me...where we're going...?" I asked quietly, my voice wavering.

"...I guess you could say it's a home of some sorts to me. Not that I really  _have_  one, anyway," she grumbled.  _Of course. Not to some "Slender Mansion" or anything they talk about in those shitty fanfictions._

As we more or less speedwalked through the forest, it getting darker and darker as we went on, I tried looking around for anything to distract me. Any weird plants, or  _some_  sign of life other than us. I swear I heard an owl hoot at some point, but it was too faint and easily could've just been the wind.

I almost collided into her when she stopped walking after almost half an hour and declared with an unsettling grin, "We're here." I shivered and looked at the seemingly normal log cabin that stood before us. I had to squint my eyes to make it out; it was way too dark to be taking a casual stroll through the woods with a known serial killer.

She saw me staring at it, and grumbled, "Jeez, it's just a cabin." I looked at her warily, and she donned a smirk. "You should see what I have inside." I gave her a scathing look. "Like, dead bodies or something...?"

Her grin widened into something more twisted. "Or something," she answered unhelpfully before lightly shoving me forward and making her way to the door.

I stayed where I was though, putting a hand to my forehead and sighing. "O-okay. But,  _why_  did you even bring me here in the first place? Why do you ' _like_ ' me, what's to stop you from just killing me? I'm not the first person you've just... _spared_  like this, am I?" I folded my arms, exhaling slowly, waiting for some kind of answer.

She slowly turned her head towards me at the door, and pulled out one of her knives. "Come inside and I'll try to explain in a way you  _humans_  could understand," she hissed, her clock gleaming.


	6. Chapter 6

I hunched over defensively as I walked over to the front door. Clockwork had already stepped inside, and with the darkness of the woods outside, you can bet I couldn't see an inch past my nose. After walking for 5 seconds around inside blindly, I had already stumbled over something laying on the floor. When a metalic scent hit me, I held my breath and prayed to god I hadn't just ran into a dead body 2 feet into the house.

Waiting for her to make some sarcastic remark about how paranoid and jumpy I was being, I stepped back slowly and made my way in another direction, hoping for a clear path.

"...uh, a-are you there...?" I asked uncertainly.  _Is she going to assault me? Did she just want to lure me here to make me suffer before dying...?_

"Of course I am, dumbass. Now get over here." I heard her voice come from another room, and I immediately felt like an idiot. "I-I, uh, I can't really  _see_  y--"

A hand yanked me forward into the darkness, causing me to bump my hand into a wall. "Ow," I squeaked. Suddenly, the room was illuminated, and I was standing in some sort of large parlor with a wide couch and a long coffee table. On the walls, instead of pictures or paintings, were ranges of different analog clocks, some of them decorated and handed with some sort of odd ivory substance.

_Are those...bones?_

Clockwork cleared her throat from the couch where she was sitting, and looked at me with skeptical eyes. "Since you feel like I owe you some sort of  _explanation_ , you might as well make this go by a little quicker."

"Okay," I muttered quickly, standing awkwardly and waiting for an invitation to sit down somewhere.

"Just...sit anywhere. You're lucky I couldn't care less right now."

"Mhmm." I hastily sat down in a little wooden chair across from her. I tugged at my sleeves, growing tenser by the minute. "So...can you tell my why...?" I prompted quietly, glancing away from her.

"Yeah, let's just get this over with. So, like I said. I take a sort of  _liking_  to you. To be honest for a moment, I have no idea any more than you what kind of 'liking' that would be. It really depends. And--Jesus Christ, why am I talking about this like it's an official thing?" She leaned back into the couch lazily, picking at random patches of it with her knife. "Really, sometimes I actually have no idea what I'm talking about. I'm just about as in the dark as you."

She gestured at me with the knife, and then flipped it back into her pocket. She stood up, her face morphing into a glower. "But that doesn't make you my equal here. You are still  _mine_. Got it?"

Without looking once at her, I nodded.

"Good," she muttered, walking out of the room without dragging me along with her.

I decided to look around the room for a couple minutes before thinking about how I should spend my time next. For all I knew, I could be trapped in this house for the rest of my life.

I quickly glanced around the walls, focusing on the slightly concerning number of clocks mounted there. Sure, her whole theme was time and all, but it seemed a little odd. Maybe this is the only room like this. I shivered, recalling her suggestion that this house was full of horrifying corpses and gore. "Or something." I sighed. Maybe it was better to stay in here for the time being; she hadn't ordered me to come out. You can only play it safe with a terrifying urban legend come true.

_Yeah, those clocks definitely have bones in them._

"Well, might as well check the time," I muttered more or less to myself. I got up from the tiny wooden chair, it creaking in relief. Walking over to one of the walls, I focused my attention on a rather small one in the middle.

8:23.

No way in hell was that right.

Sighing frustratedly, I shifted to the left.  _The first one I checked just_ had _to be broken_. I noticed that the minute hand wasn't moving in the slightest. On the next one, it read 1:45.

Nope.

It wasn't moving either.  _Are all these clocks as inconvenient as each other?_

2:24. Close, probably, but no.

3:19. Nope.

12:59. Incorrect.

I suddenly felt goosebumps pop up all over my arms. Scratching them to soothe myself, I couldn't help but feed the thought that something was off. Nobody, not even someone as weird and psychotic and vague as Clockwork would just have a random collection of broken analogs. Unless it had something to do with OCD or some other hoarding problem, it just didn't make sense.

_Your time is up_. That was her little catchphrase, right? Why did that give me chills while looking at this scene?

_Wait_.

Something caught my eye right below one of the smaller clocks. It looked torn, but it was clearly a piece of duct tape. A label. In tiny, bubbled handwriting, I saw written, "#39261" and I came to a chilling revelation.

_All of her past victim's times..._

But that was nothing to the question I came to that almost made me run out of the room and call the police. Just for a small chance of escaping her.

_Do I have a clock?_

_Was 2:05 my time?_

I stepped back, almost stumbling over myself as my eyes raced over the rest of the wall.

The tiny labels were everywhere. This psycho had tens of thousands of kills, and she kept track of every single one of them with her stupid clocks.

"You don't have one yet, sweetheart."

I jumped and felt my stomach churning at the sound of her voice, and I turned to see her wearing a smug grin, leaning in the doorway. She almost looked normal. Her leathery gloves were off, she wore ripped, baggy jeans, and an oversized black hoodie. The only difference, obviously was her face, and the fact that a knife was still strapped to her waist.

I almost felt like giving her a death glare, but that might either provoke her or give her what she wanted, which was a reaction.  _Fuck you_ , I cussed her out mentally.

"Well, since you're here with me for the long run," she digressed, shrugging, "you might as well come eat something. I'd ask if you like waffles, but in all honesty, I couldn't care less what you like, as long as it doesn't kill you." She turned and walked away to some other room. The lights were fully on in the house, and I gulped as I discovered that when I entered, I had bumped into an occupied body bag.

"Hey. Human. Food. Come here," I heard her call from what I assumed to be the kitchen.

_Why are you even feeding me?_


	7. Chapter 7

Despite wanting to stay in that room out of annoyance and fear, I followed her towards what must have been the kitchen. Among the other 2 rooms I'd seen in the house, this one seemed the most normal. It had a kind of comforting vibe to it. But that didn't stop my heart from beating out of my chest and my breath shallowing as I reluctantly sat down at one of two wooden chairs at the small circular table, waiting for some unsettling remark to be made.

"Go on. Eat. I wouldn't have gone this far just to poison you." She gestured towards the stack of Belgian waffles sitting in the middle of the table with a smirk.

Avoiding eye contact, I slowly grabbed a nearby fork and served myself one waffle, not bothering to look for any kind of topping. I chopped it up into tiny pieces and ate daintily, becoming increasingly self-conscious.  _Might as well look respectable in front of my kidnapper._

"You're super uptight. Like I said; you're a  _squirrel_ ," I heard her mutter. I didn't dare look at her face, but by glancing up a bit I could see she had her hands folded at her chin. I suddenly felt a shiver travel down my spine.  _She remembers what she said?_ I thought, not knowing exactly why I was so surprised at that.  _So she wasn't just in some sort of insane daze when she did that whole crazy nose-kiss giggle shit?_

I felt myself pause, but didn't respond to her. I just kept eating, and before long I was finished. I wasn't hungry to begin with, but I didn't feel full. I only felt this sense of emptiness that I was pretty sure couldn't be filled by food.

_Less than an hour with this maniac. And I'm already falling into depression._

I put my fork down steadily, still looking down at the table. "Clockwork," I uttered in a low voice.

"What?"

"...thanks," I muttered shakily, not shifting my gaze. My mouth turned into a thin line, and I almost started tapping my foot anxiously.

"For what?"

I finally looked up at her, surprised. "W-what do you mean,  _what?_ I..." I trailed off lamely. "Well, you gave m-me food..." I gulped, not knowing what to say past that.

To my surprise, again, she shrugged and pushed herself out of her chair, brushing herself off. "Fair enough. Guess it  _does_  make up for, eh, y'know..." she walked past me and started heading out the door. As she passed me, her finger grazed my shoulder, and I got goosebumps all over my arm.  _She definitely did that on purpose._

"...well, breaking into your room, kidnapping you, stealing your life...well, whatever you had  _left_  of it anyway."

I whirled around, almost falling out of my chair. But she was gone.

"Y-you can't...you can't just  _say_  that...!"

"I thought I just did, sweetheart."

* * *

Ever since I moved out and started my own life, I obviously knew I was much less safe and secure than before. I was on my own, away from friends, family, anyone I knew. But until the frenzy of everyone else's paths kicked in, I never realized how many people I'd actually lose. That is to say, my parents seemed relieved to get me out of their house for good. Whatever I had left of my friends didn't seem that interested in keeping in touch from far away. Distance-wise, nobody was actually that close to me, but I didn't realize that everyone in my life would take that as a valid reason to just cut me off.

So from then on, I was even less safe than before. I had nobody to turn to except for the local authorities, and even they weren't that much help. To make it even worse, I had started looking into a bunch of horror stories and urban legends and creepypastas; I felt the need to force some excitement and tension in my new life away from friends.

At this point, I was guessing that it worked a little too well.

And when Clockwork made that offhand comment about how I didn't have much of a life left, I couldn't help but question how much she really knew about me.  _This girl probably doesn't even know my name, and she's making fun of the fact that everyone's left me._

_Well, she's one to talk. She lives alone too, and I haven't heard her mention any friends or partners-in-crime._

_Maybe that's why._


	8. Chapter 8

I sighed, now standing alone. Again. In another room.  _How concerned exactly is she about me trying to run away? She's not keeping me under real close watch here._  Rubbing my arms and looking around, I slowly stepped out and tried to determine what to do next. I glanced around the front hall, focusing inevitably on the body bag that was in plain sight next to the front door. I started feeling sick when I remembered almost tripping over it in the dark, and the sharp stench of blood hitting me hard.

Averting my eyes, I instead looked at the hall branching out to the side. It was almost pitch black. I was almost tempted to walk down and explore it; for some reason, my curiosity was still intact, despite me being near traumatized by tonight. I suddenly remembered,  _This only happened a couple hours ago. Just tonight, I was still laying in my bed, at peace. Awake, and irritated, but at peace. In less than a day, I almost died multiple times, and this could be my new "home."_

I couldn't feel less at home.

I cautiously stepped forward, dismissing that tangent, and tried to see through the seemingly endless darkness. Even though the light in the doorway was on, and painfully bright, at that, I couldn't see an inch into the hall without blackness obstructing it.  _How is that even possible?_

I took a small step further, staring in confusion. I felt something tug down at my sweater pocket, and I immediately remembered I had put something in there.

_Of all the times to remember I have my phone with me._

I grabbed it and quickly checked the time. 4:17. Below, I saw a barrage of notifications, and I almost gasped when I saw that they were all text messages.

Opened the phone up and took a cautious glance at the first one, not knowing what to expect.

_Dude. I saw the police at your house. Is everything okay?_

I stared blankly at the dimming screen, and didn't know whether to scream or cry.  _Who is this? Nobody I know lives anywhere near me. Is there some sort of stalker? If it is, why would they be concerned about me?_

Deciding to come back to it later, I checked the second most recent message. It was from an unknown number, too.

_ur fucking crazy, you know that? who would actually want to be around you anyway, you belong in a mental institute. hope to see you in hell, crazy cult pasta-believer._

Oh. Another one of those. Probably someone I just removed from my contacts. Next.

_You have used up 75% of your cellular data._

I groaned.  _Shit._  I'd have to save whatever I had left.

I looked at one more message before I turned it off for the rest of the night.

_Remember: don't even think about calling the police or anyone. It won't do anything for you, and I'll just add more times to my wall. Sleep tight._

At a loss for what to do next, I stood there and stared at the screen, which eventually faded to black. My first thought was,  _Where the hell am I supposed to sleep?_

I opened the phone back up and asked her exactly where I was supposed to go.  
 _Hell if I know. Somewhere where you won't cause trouble for me. Good night._

That wasn't much of an answer. I ran through an automatic list in my head of all the possible reasons she might've wanted to reconsider saying something like that.  _"Somewhere where I won't cause trouble" my ass._

I still refrained from telling her off and instead looked back to the black hallway. I bit my lip contemplatively. "Should I just...?" I whispered more or less to myself.

I held up my phone and turned on the flashlight.

_Screw it._

I started down the hallway, attempting to brace myself for the worst. Maybe there was a torture chamber in some room off to the left, covered in blood and organs. Or maybe there was some sort of unsanitary freeze locker room filled with naked dead bodies. Or worse, more clocks.

The further I travelled down the hall, the more lost I felt. I could make out the floor and walls thanks to the dim light of my phone, but everything around me looked the same. It was like I was in a maze, but I had only walked straight the entire time. If I wanted out for some reason, I'd just turn around and walk back in the other direction.

After walking for about fifteen minutes, which is longer than it sounds, I finally came across a door. Although I didn't realize it at first.

I was about to close my heavy eyelids when I saw one thing that was almost unnoticeable, but after walking almost a mile of the same thing, I spotted it with ease. It was some sort of indent in the wall, a line, that formed a rectangle in the shape of a doorway.

_It's probably just some sealed up closet,_  I thought, my hopes sinking. Then as I continued walking forward, my light reflected on something and I almost jumped back.

_Halle-fucking-lujah. There's a doorknob on this thing._

I hastily reached out and twisted it, and doing so, I was ultimately forced to glance backwards towards the hallway entrance.

It was pitch black. Not a speck of light anywhere.

My hand jumped off the knob and I wiped it on my sweater.  _Not cool. Not fucking cool at all,_  I thought at her.  _Did you just--somehow lock me in?!_  
I felt a buzz in my hand and quickly opened my messages.

_I turned off the light dumbass. Now get some sleep before I make you. I know someone who's quite skilled at that._

I narrowed my eyes and roughly jerked the door open, causing dust to fly. Coughing, I glanced inside the room, unsurprised to still see nothing but pitch black. "This is so stupid," I muttered to myself. Stepping inside and slowly feeling around the walls for some sort of switch, I found a smooth, tiny button. I hesitated, then pressed it.  
Something flickered, and I heard a loud snap and jumped.  _What the hell?_   _Did I break something?_

A dim light slowly filled the room, and I shifted my gaze around the small room. It was mostly empty, except for a tiny cot that could barely fit one person and a display shelf on the wall that made me gulp. It wasn't stacked with clocks. It was crowded row after row with wickedly sharp kitchen knifes and machetes, axes and cleavers, all rusted and bloodstained. Some of them even looked like they had tiny bits of meat and organs on them, though that might've been just the dim lighting or my paranoia kicking in.

I gulped anyway, and averted my eyes to sit down on the "bed." I hoisted my legs up into the air and flipped down on my back, spread-eagle and eyes closed. I hadn't realized how tired I actually was until I rested my body for the first time in almost a full 24 hours.

_Home sweet home,_  I thought before waking up to blinding daylight.


	9. Chapter 9

Upon being hit with a painful light, I immediately squeezed my eyes shut and winced. I couldn't tell where I was, what time it was. And I wasn't in much of a hurry to find out.

Unfortunately for the sake of my being well-rested, I had no choice.

"Get on up, sweetie," a soft voice coaxed. "Time for school."

I groaned, slowly sitting up and lazily checking my phone.

9:32.

"Shit!" I yelped, almost clawing at my hair. I swung my legs over the cot and jumped up frantically. "What--what's going--"

I faltered as I heard familiar laughing. "Jesus! You are  _way_  too gullible, aren't you already out of school?" She wheezed.

I grit my teeth and fell back onto the bed, holding my head. "You asshole. I'm actually going to  _kill_  you. Do you know how much I--"

"Relax, sweetie," Clockwork interrupted dismissively. "I  _do_  kind of need you to get up, though." She turned to me with a mildly insane grin, and I furrowed my eyebrows, unsure what to expect. She twirled a knife near her mouth, grazing the stitches. "It's time to get killing."

I didn't get up, my mouth forming into a thin line. "Am I really necessary? I'm not exactly the insane, trauma-driven serial killer type. And I am  _definitely_  not intimidating." I folded my arms slowly in quiet refusal.

She frowned, raising her eyebrows. "I never said  _you_  were the one that had to get killing. I just can't have you cooped up in here the whole day.  _I'm_  going out," she declared airily, like she was going on some sort of lunch date. I narrowed my eyes in confusion.

"Okay, I'm going to have to ask for a serious explanation now. If you're so keen on keeping me here--I mean, you  _kidnapped_  me. Why are you giving me any freedom? I could have just run off, and you wouldn't have anyone but yourself to blame. I don't understand your motive..." I stopped, realizing that nobody should be able to understand a 'pasta's motives. Not unless they had the same severe trauma and psychotic tendencies.

She seemed to think along the same lines.

"Do you really still think you might understand why I do the things I do?" she asked, somehow not sounding the least bit offended, but more amused. Like a mortal's stupidity was kind of entertaining.

Getting the message, I shook my head. "Yeah...you're right, I guess."  _For once,_ I silently added.

"Good. Now," she digressed, cleaning out the grit underneath her fingernails with the knife, "I strongly suggest you clear out of here."

I knew better than to ask why. I quickly stood up and walked out.

"And try not to go anywhere that would get you killed," she added loudly as I made the journey through the tunnel-like hall.  _Like I don't have common sense._

I'll spare you the details of the uneventful trek back to the main room. I stood in an almost blinding light again, and I shielded my eyes as I prepared to make my next decision.  _What's there to do around here, anyway?_  I slowly made my way towards the kitchen to find out if waffles were the only thing this psycho served herself. Surprisingly, they were not.

_Okay, what the hell are jars of organs doing in the freezer._

I slapped my forehead and cursed at myself.  _Why would I even question something like this. Just because she wants me alive doesn't mean I can't suffer a bit at her hands._  With a resisted gag, I slowly closed the freezer door and walked out. Breakfast was apparently off-limits today.

"Isn't that Eyeless Jack guy supposed to be the cannibal out of these freaks?" I muttered to myself, suddenly finding myself staring at the body bag on the floor. She still hadn't moved it from the night before, and I was somehow beginning to get used to its disturbing presence.  _Goddamnit, this isn't normal. I shouldn't be okay with this,_  I scolded myself, quickly turning away to head to the clock room.  _And now I can't decide where to stay for five minutes._

I grabbed a torn up cushion and threw myself onto the small couch, relieved to find no knives or needles embedded into it to stick in my back. But a chilling wave of uneasiness hit me when I glanced up at the ceiling, and found there were clocks hanging up  _there_ too.  _Well, wouldn't expect anything less._

I hugged the cushion against my chest like some sort of stuffed animal. I felt stupid doing it, but it was the closest I could get to hugging a real person. Not very therapeutic, but not useless. I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to imagine anything that might bring me joy.

_A beach scenery...?_

"Ugh. Never even been to one since, like, 2nd grade," I scoffed, my eyes still closed.

"Been to what?"

"A beach," I answered briskly, not even bothering to check who it was. A mild jolt shook me from her voice, but that was all she was getting in terms of fear or surprise.

"Huh. Well, I'm gonna head out now. Also, be prepared to get the fuck out of here if anyone but me shows up while I'm gone. Any _thing_ , hell," she muttered, snapping her fingers in front of my face.

I opened my eyes with a hint of annoyance. "Even, like, a raccoon?" I asked dryly.

Her expression darkened. "Especially a fucking raccoon, sweetie."

I held back a snort and nodded quickly.  _Is this what friends act like?! Because we are not friends._

Before I could finish the thought, she was gone, and I scratched my head irritably. "We are not friends," I reassured myself out loud. I kept my eyes locked on the doorway and cursed internally.

The body bag was still laying on the floor in the same spot. Opening the door did nothing.

I wasn't so sure what bothered me so much about it. It just seemed unnatural. For something to be so still, so quiet. Yeah, it was a zipped up sack with a dead body in it. Still, I couldn't shake this weird feeling.

_Shit. I'm actually doing this._

I slowly walked over to the lifeless sack, holding my breath and clutching my chest. My ribcage was pounding with fear, and my hands were shaking as I located the zipper.


	10. Chapter 10

As I slowly and shakily opened it, a metallic scent hit me, and I immediately gagged and stepped away. Glancing back at it for a second I could see it was some sort of blond, but the hair was choppy and stuck together with chunks of coagulated blood. I was somehow unfazed.

I hesitantly unzipped it further, and I saw a skinny figure, a blood-covered face with the jaw wrenched open, and countless slices all over the skin. The blood was so dry it was cracked, and it seemed more black than red. One look at the face told me they didn't nearly have as easy of a time as probably most of her victims. The eyes seemed to be torn out; underneath the blood all I could make out was an empty darkness.

I gripped the zipper tightly and swallowed hard.  _Well. This is what I get for being a curious little bastard._ I clenched my teeth, my heart beating out of my chest and my hands becoming flooded with sweat.

_Screw it._

I fully unzipped the bag down to what should have been the toes, except that isn't exactly what I got.

They had all been individually ripped off. All of the bones I could make out were snapped in half, some even more than once. The feet, or whatever this corpse had left of them, were folded up parallel to the shins, tendons ripped.

And the body as a whole had a series of cuts, slices, and scars that seemed to form words as I slowly walked around it.

**TIME**   
**VIOLENT**   
**TORTURE**

**AGAIN**

**AGAIN**

**AGAIN**

I read them all out loud under my breath. I needed some assurance that I was actually seeing this. A mutilated murder victim with words...words specifically from--

"Holy shit. She never actually forgot."

I quickly pulled out my phone and went directly to a creepypasta wiki site.

_clockwork creepypasta quote monologue._  Enter.

I scrolled down as fast as I could and quickly whispered to myself while frantically glancing back at the body.

"' **Time** does not speed up. It does not slow down. It is  **violent.** '"

"'It makes you live through the  **torture.**  Over and over  **again.** '"

"'...unable to fast forward away from it.'"

I took one last hasty look at the poor lifeless body before zipping it back up.  _She can't know I opened this up. I'll end up just like it._

' _I am Clockwork._ '

That's what the last line of dialogue says after she pushes the small pocket watch into her eye socket.

That's when she  _really_ changed.

Of course she would never forget it.

_Why am I thinking about this like I knew her before?! I don't have the right to sympathize with her! I barely know her outside some internet forum. I didn't think she was real before last night._

_So why do I feel guilty at all?_

A shiver ran down my spine and a hiccup clawed its way out of my throat as I stumbled back to my room.

"How is all this still getting to me...?" I muttered. "I should be able to fucking stand it by now, but no. I get second-hand PTSD from looking at some guy in a body bag."

I seethed at her and myself all the way back until I finally collapsed onto my "bed" and heaved a sigh. I lay still for about 15 minutes, trying to think of something to get my mind off my current situation.

"I'm not even going to ask why you're still in here."

I jolted awake and scrambled up against the wall at the sudden sound of her voice, my head snapping towards the doorway. There she stood in all her assholeish-glory, a condescending look on her face and a bloodstained knife stuck at her collarbone.

_And I'm not even going to ask how you're fucking alive with that._

"I leave for, like, 30 minutes, and you're still cooped up here like a depressed teenager. I thought you had your shit together by now."

I scowled and hugged my arms together defensively. "How did I even forget that I'm living with a psychopath for one second?"

She gave me a funny look, and I immediately regretted what I said.  _God damnit, now she thinks I started to like her at some point._ I closed my eyes and gripped my arms tightly in some sort of self-hug. "This is not normal. I'm not in a normal situation," I mumbled just loud enough so she could hear me.

I heard a scoff. "Well, no shit. Also, I see you dug into my stuff, but I won't ask why because I'm  _just that nice_." I cracked one eye open, not able to tell if she was being sarcastic or not.

"...how...how old was that body?" I asked nervously. "It was so dry."  _And gross._

"Eh, forget. Come on, I'm pretty sure it's lunch time--"

Just as she said that, a small chime sounded out of nowhere, and she held her head, seeming like she was trying to crush it. She clenched her eye shut and dug a knuckle into her clock. "Oh,  _fuck you!_ " She yelled.

_Jesus. That must happen every day at 12. Maybe even at midnight too._  I felt a pang of empathetic annoyance towards the small clock.

She let out a sigh when she was done with her small fit. "...so, yeah. It's lunch time. I don't think you're a cannibal...?" She looked at me inquiringly.

I raised an eyebrow and gave a small shake of my head.

"Good," was the only thing she uttered before walking out of the room, and for some reason, I hastened to join her.

As I walked alongside her, I noticed the trip seemed a lot shorter and less tiring this time.  _Companionship,_  I guessed. "Did you bring, like...a human body back with you...?"

"Of course. Serial killers eat. Just not the standard American diet."

I refrained from letting out a small chuckle.  _Neither do I._

"Speaking of which, this country's fucked up, you know."

"I know," I responded almost immediately.  _This almost feels like a normal conversation._

And like that, we were at the main hall.  
She turned to me with some kind of trademarked psychotic grin, and pulled out a knife. I eyed it cautiously, and then pushed back my hair in realization. "Oh, I get it. You're gonna say something like, 'time for lunch' and then stab me in the gut or slit my throat. And, like, the punchline would be that I'm actually the 'body' you brought back. So  _I'm_ your lunch. Because you're a cannibal," I guessed almost in one breath.

Smile not faltering, she twirled the knife in between her fingers and picked at her nails. "Damnit."

"Sorry you didn't get to actually do it..." I offered.

"I mean, I don't think I was  _actually_  gonna stab you. Just maybe, give you a little scare. Make you piss yourself. Give you an extra dose of insomnia. Something like that."

"Well, better luck next time."

She started walking into the kitchen, and I followed after a couple of seconds. I paused once I reached the table.

_Extra?_

"Okay...exactly how much do you know about me?"

In the middle of slicing part of her victim's leg off, she immediately stopped and blinked once, not bothering to glance at me.


	11. Chapter 11

"...do you actually want to know."

" _Yes,_ " I said without hesitation. "I'd at least like to know if you've been stalking me all my life or not. It's pretty simple. I won't judge."

"Nothing."

"What?"

She whipped a plate out of nowhere and served herself a generous chunk of flesh and muscle, still not looking in my direction. "I don't know shit about you. Does that answer your question?"

I paused, and then held my forehead. "You...you really don't know anything? Th-then what was with that thing you said yesterday...? About, like...'Whatever you have left of your life?'" I slowly slid a chair out and sat down, my elbows hitting the table in melancholy.

She looked at me strangely.

"You did! You said that!" I protested. "Are you  _sure_  you know absolutely nothing?"

"Yes. And I remember. I'm not an idiot, and if I wanted to lie, I'd do it better than  _that._ " She sighed, and dug into her "food."

"But I'm not. I know nothing about you. I don't know your name, background, anything. Do you really think I'd stalk you?"

"Rude."

"Shut up. And I haven't, or I'd have brought something up by now. But you seem to be doing my job for me now."

I flinched.  _Ouch. I think I get it._

"But...why would you--"

"Honestly, anyone would have been fazed by that. Thinking about your life when it's gotten to a place like this...well, I wouldn't exactly blame you if you broke down." She continued casually as she ate with just her knife. I couldn't tell if the blood on her face was the corpse's or her own.  _Her mouth is already sliced; I guess she wouldn't care._

"Remember? I'm not your friend. I'm a serial killer. Probably worse. Don't expect me to try to actually take care of you."

I looked down at the table. Something itched inside my mouth, and I blew out slowly.

"Do you at least want to know my name?...since you know pretty much nothing about me?"

She paused for a split second. It wasn't much, but I caught it, and I knew I'd thrown her off somehow. She hadn't expected me to keep up.

"...sure. Why not," she mumbled into her food.

"It's Alex."

"Good to know. Now. You said you  _weren't_ a cannibal?"

I shook my head silently, picking at the wooden table with a fingernail.

"Then go get something out of the fridge,  _Alex._  You need to eat," she said, dragging my name out like it was some sort of new word.

Ignoring the shivers traveling down my spine, I thought back to when I actually looked in the fridge. "I think I'll pass..."

"I'm not asking, I'm ordering. Eat something. I don't care if it's your hand, honestly."

_I think you do care, honestly_ , I shot back in my head. I sighed and made my way to the fridge, giving the content the benefit of the doubt. Maybe on her way back she picked up some stale bread and I could have a kidney sandwich.

I opened the door, not expecting the best in cuisine. I was almost right; what I found alongside the jars of organs was actual food. But I wouldn't put it past someone like Clockwork to actually maintain perishables and make sure they don't kill someone. I counted almost 6 different bottles of mustard, which was to say the least, inconvenient. That much left the remainder of the food to be small portions and scrapings.

All else I could see was packaged deli meat and a single slice of stale bread, out in the open. No plastic bag, no plate, nothing.  _Only the height of luxury for her guests and herself_. I almost immediately grabbed it, not bothering to check for mold.

_A_ _stick of butter would be nicer, but okay_ , I thought as I reluctantly peeled two slices of ham apart to make some sort of half-assed sandwich I wasn't even intending to eat.  _This is something._

I slowly took a seat, exhaling softly and preparing to take a bite when I felt something oddly burning into my forehead. I hunched over and looked up to see her staring at me intently, her face almost expressionless. My gaze shot back down to the table as I attempted to eat without feeling too disturbed. Her plate seemed untouched, like she had stopped eating once I stood up.

I took another bite, the savory taste of the meat now turning bland in my mouth.

"You better not starve yourself from now on," she finally said gruffly, and I quickly swallowed on instinct and looked up again. Her eye was narrowed at me, and the clock seemed to be ticking just a little bit faster. "I'm the only one who's allowed to kill you here."

I put my sandwich down and rubbed my temples. "I skipped  _one_  meal. A-and you're acting like I have anorexia or something." My eyes met hers, and I slowly gave her a small grin. "Do you actually care about me?" I muttered in a false scandalized tone. She smirked, catching me off guard.

"Well, would that be a problem?"

"I've read your story. You're not exactly the caring type," I blurted, resuming my mediocre lunch.  _Should I have said that...?_

I felt a pause, and thick tension hung in the air as she sat there, frozen. Something had clicked there. Some sort of nerve had been hit, and I regretted it.

"B-but stories are usually just bullshit," I rushed to add. "Some of that was probably--"

"Thanks, Alex. But you don't have to pander to me about this." Her voice was low and gruff and dry, as usual. But something felt more bitter than before. It was sharper, but duller at the same time.

I shrunk in my seat. "...s-sorry?"

"Never mind. Just..." she sighed, and rubbed her forehead. "Okay. I don't ask about your tragic past, or whatever. Do me a solid; don't ask me about mine. Like...ever."

I felt disoriented from the sudden switch in tone. I muttered a small "okay" and stared at my food. My stomach started churning; I somehow didn't feel hungry anymore. I felt like I could go the next couple days without food, and nothing would be different.

I guess she noticed.

" _Human_ ," she addressed me sharply. My head snapped up.

Her voice was sharp, but her face looked softer. "Eat. It's not a big deal."

I ate.

Chew, swallow. Chew, swallow.

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

I could almost hear the ticking, the room was so quiet.

I couldn't even hear birds chirping outside. No sounds of nature.

Just the ticking of the clock, and the passing of time.

I could understand why she hated it so much.


	12. Chapter 12

I sat and wrote and drew.

Everything that came to my mind could fit on the paper. I just had to keep it short and sweet. A note here, a sketch there, maybe even a paragraph.

Just as long as I didn't think too much about anything.

_Where is Clockwork? Where is Clockwork?_

_Knock, knock, knock. Knock knock knock._

_Climbing through your window;_

_Too late! Now she's in to_

_Stop your clock._

_Stop your clock._

I sat and wrote and sat and wrote and drew. Just enough to let it out. Things we ticking and clicking and coming together inside of me. Nothing mattered, so why not make this terrifying ride worthwhile?

_Where is Alex? Where is Alex?_

_Damn, who knows? Damn, who knows?_

_Curled up in her annex,_

_Probably needs some Xanax._

_Her time is up._

_Time is up._

Standing up to look at the world around me, I took a deep breath and smiled at the chipped gray walls. Something felt right. I didn't need people. I didn't need interaction. All I needed was me, a pen, and a piece of paper. And a psychopath to keep me imprisoned.

At that realization, I laughed.  _She's not a psychopath. She's just like me. And I'm completely normal._

I walked up to a row of knives and loosened one from its hook. Twiddling it between my fingers, I thought hard about what day it was. Hell if I could remember. It didn't seem to matter.

I looked back at my handiwork and giggled.

"What a piece of shit."

* * *

I sat up in bed, rubbing my throat, panting and coughing like I had run a mile through a pit of fire. " _Why_ ," I whispered.  _Jesus Christ, it wasn't real. It was a dream. It was a dream._

"It was a dream."

I swallowed down the lump in my throats with some saliva, realizing how thirsty I was. It was past midnight, I was guessing. I pulled out my phone and automatically groaned. 2:50. "Ugh." I rubbed my damp, stinging eyes. It was back on old grounds for me. At least last night, I'd only been kept up by the sheer panic of knowing I was trapped in a tiny room with only a psychotic kidnapper for company.

All I could think to do now was get up, find some way to turn the lights on without accidentally killing myself, and draw something.

I shivered at the memory.

"Oo-kay," I whispered to myself, clutching my head and scratching at my filthy scalp.  _I have to find a way to clean myself._  "That was  _not_ real. You were just paranoid. I am not going to go crazy."

Instantly, I flinched, expecting some voice to respond, "are you?"  _That asshole is getting to me already._

"I am not going to kill myself here. That's her job. Not mine."

I kept muttering to myself, expecting an interruption with each sentence.

Nothing. I was alone for once. Alone with my thoughts. My thoughts and dreams. At the one time I didn't want to be.

I took a heavy breath and blew out, closing my eyes again. I couldn't get used to this darkness, and if I could, it was taking too long. But I didn't want to revisit any of my dreams either; I wasn't looking forward to having another panic attack in my sleep.

"God damnit," I muttered, and sat back up.

All I could focus on was that trauma. I knew what it meant, of course. Going masochistic and coming to worship my equally psychotic kidnapper was definitely something I was afraid of.  _But I have_ stamina _. That shouldn't happen so easily, it'd take months for me to completely break down. I'm not that weak._

_Right?_

"God damnit," I repeated.  _Screw it all. Here comes my terrifying la-la land._

I stuffed my face into the pillow I had provided myself with and tried for the final time to fall asleep.


	13. Chapter 13

My eyes flickered open, adjusting to the sudden light. Sleep melted away and I quickly sat up, rubbing my forehead.  _Okay, good. That terrifying dream didn't return._ I felt disoriented, and everything in my path looked fuzzy and distorted. I clearly didn't have any good of a night's sleep since I'd woken up a couple hours ago. And surprisingly, everything was still silent.  _Maybe she's just not in the mood to freak me out today._

A quick glance at the knife row was enough to jolt my body awake, and I tripped over myself getting out of bed.  _I don't think I'm in the mood to freak me out, either. Breakfast time. Now._

I rubbed the stiffness out of my eyes and blinked a few times as I walked down the seemingly winding hall once more. My feet dragged me to the spot it had for days now, and without checking to see if Clockwork was awake either I grabbed a single piece of ham and started munching on some good, probably expired protein. "Good morning," I mumbled to myself through a half-full mouth. I didn't bother to react when I heard behind me, "Good morning to you too, sunshine."

I sighed. "Either that's you, or I'm schizophrenic."

"Take a wild guess. Anyway, you're gonna be on your own again for the day. I got a grudge to settle with a gross Reddit user whose location I happened to get," she muttered nonchalantly, pulling a jar out of the fridge that probably contained someone's old kidney. I blinked.

"Wait, why are you always gone during the day? Don't you only kill people at night?" I asked as she unscrewed the lid, no utensils in sight.  _Is_ _she going to chug an entire kidney?_  I shook the thought off as she narrowed her eyes at me like I was stupid.

"It's better for  _me,_  I guess, to kill at night. But people are more relaxed, less alert during the day. At night is when they're on-edge. You're not afraid of your own house in the middle on the day, are you?" She raised an eyebrow at me expectantly.

"I live in an apartment," I pointed out hesitantly.

"Whatever. The point is, I can go at them without them suspecting a thing." She ended the conversation there, and I averted my eyes to the table.  _How does she just share stuff like that so casually? Does she really trust me that much?_  Something whirred inside my brain as I continued chewing my "breakfast."

"...would there be a chance...that I could..." I swallowed hard, keeping my gaze locked at the table. I felt her eye burning into my head. "...y'know...go out?"

There was silence for a second. "...that's it?" She muttered.

"Like, outside of here for once. For an hour, or something. That--that's all," I rushed to say in one breath. I set what was left of the piece of ham down and folded my arms on the table.  _I mean, it_ would _be fair._

She didn't answer for a second. Then I heard a sigh. "Not yet."

I paused, asking myself if I should tell her about my dream.

After a couple seconds of thinking, I left the table to go back to sleep.

* * *

[NATALIE]

My head thumped as I kept replaying her reaction to my answer. I couldn't help but feel guilty, somehow. My brain kept flickering to bloody scenes I had either created or seen, and I struggled to focus.  _Why does stuff like this have to be so hard. It should be like taking care of a dog, or something._

And yet I had to constantly overthink what I say, rephrasing everything to not sound as harsh as it did in my mind.  _Fuck no_  turns into "not yet," and I desperately wish I could just speak my mind, just stop hiding everything simply for "her sake."

What if I actually did just tell her what was on my mind?

...

I refrain from giggling.  _No. She isn't just some kill, she's a prisoner._

I shook the bloodstained images from my mind and stood up from my place at the table. I suddenly didn't feel as hungry anymore. Something in my stomach wanted to take something, anything, and destroy every bit. Rip the legs off the table, chop it in half with an axe. I wanted to burn something and watch it crackle, snap, and smolder. I shook myself, trying to calm the itch in my throat. This happened much too often, and ever since I'd taken her, I forced myself to not act on impulse for once.

How was I able to adapt to this unusual silence, after years of murder, bloodshed, maniacal laughter that filled every inch of this house? I tried not to focus on the question, but it bothered me so much. How was it even conceivable that, after years of insanity, that I was able to listen to the small voice at the back of my head and, as it crudely put it, chill the fuck out?

"Ugh." I glanced pitifully at the half-eaten kidney on my plate, and reluctantly plopped it back into its jar.  _Dinner,_  I decided.

"Alex," I muttered, the word's texture strange on my tongue. I had been alone for years, not bothering to learn, much less remember names. This is what restraint felt like. For a long time, I'd been limitless. I could do what I pleased, and what I pleased was manslaughter. Now I had to hold my tongue for the sake of a random human. When she said "wait," for the first time, I waited. I actually waited. How could one word make me stop myself like that?

Well, one thing's for certain.

Now, I'm going to have to take her out eventually.


	14. Chapter 14

[ALEX]

I hadn't checked my phone for a month, I guessed. I can't exactly explain why. I think I was scared. Scared of what might be there, who might be trying to get through to me. I couldn't face whatever was outside this house. I wouldn't be able to explain myself, let alone Clockwork...

Clockwork.  _Natalie._  Should I start calling her that now? At least in my head? I wouldn't dare say that name out loud in this cabin, even when she's gone. It must be some sort of trigger for her. She won't talk to me about her past; I can't imagine how she'd react if I said her real name in front of her.

I sat up in "bed" for about the fourth time in the last 12 hours and looked around. The same blank-canvas room as usual. As the days passed, I should have grown used to everything I had seen here. But everything felt so unnatural, so weirdly balanced that I didn't like it. This was too shady for any sane person to live in, but no psychopath could make a home here so organized.

The knife row never failed to make me stare and gulp.

I sighed and scratched my arms, for some sort of comfort. "What am I even supposed to  _do_ here," I muttered more or less to myself.

After a minute of idle hesitation, I caved. I was hungry. Well, more for regular human interaction. At least with my "job" at home, I wasn't being kept under house arrest.

Up until then, I had kept a sweater tied around my waist. Now it was time to put it on; the days seemed to be getting colder, and I needed the extra comfort.

"Hey."

I jumped when I heard her voice behind me, and hugged my arms again. "...hi," I responded quietly. I noticed there was some sort of hesitation in her tone.

"I was thinking, and...y-you should get to go out. At some point. It's only fair," she continued weakly. I turned to her and raised an eyebrow. "What...what made you change your mind?"

She scoffed lightly and waved the air. "I never said I changed my mind. I just want you to know that I'm not going to control everything you do. You'll just need some...fresh air, at some point. Y'know?"

I half-smiled at that. "At  _some point?_ "

Surprisingly, she grimaced, and my smile melted immediately.  _Oh. She's actually trying._

"Look. I'm trying to be flexible. I know you, somehow,  _miss_  something about wherever you were before. Something like that. But I can't cater to you that much right now. I..." she trailed off and scratched her head. I shrunk into myself a little more.  _This is new._

Clockwork blew out and made some sort of resigned gesture. "Okay. What I'm trying to say is, maybe sometime in the future, when I go out at night, you could, like...come along. If you wanted." She hesitantly looked up at me, and I was at a loss for words.

"You...you really trust me that much?" was all I could muster. She couldn't really mean it.

She shrugged, and her timid air vanished. "Hey. A month is a month. You can't really blame me for trying to form some kind of kidnapper-prisoner bond here," she pointed out.

I couldn't really argue with that. Still, something felt off about this.

I raised an eyebrow. "...okay. Uh, thanks...Clockwork." I made my way to the kitchen with an uncomfortable little half-smile.

"Call me Natalie."

I paused. "What?"

She hesitated. "You...you can call me Natalie. It's just kinda awkward to call me by that weird name I made up when I was 16. You get me?"

Something softened, and I genuinely smiled. Just a little bit. "Yeah. Okay."

This could make things easier.

* * *

 

Whatever subliminal mind trick she was trying to pull on me, I started feeling the effects the next day. I somehow started seeing things in a new light. I stared at the row of cleavers and blades in my room with wonder.  _These have touched hundreds, maybe thousands of people. People in the outside world._

It felt exhilarating every time I passed the front door. Just the knowledge that I would soon be outside, just for a night, filled me with some sort of newfound energy. Meals became less shitty, even. If Natalie was concerned, she didn't show any signs. Maybe she knew what kind of effect that small conversation was having on me.

For some reason, I didn't really care whether she was pulling some kind of sick trick on me. All the mattered was that I could be somewhere other than this cabin. Even for just a second. I probably seemed like an excited little kid.

With the mental state I'd adopted, it was a nice change. At least I wasn't in some state of depression.

It was like that for a couple days until she finally caved.

"Fine, you shit. We're going now. But first," she added hastily, before I could let out a scream of joy or whatever she expected, "we're going to need to set some  _ground rules._ " She said the words oddly, like there was a weird taste in her mouth from them. I couldn't exactly blame her; she wasn't the kind of person built for a "whacky roommate/family" dynamic.

"Number one: don't fuck this up," she began encouragingly, grabbing me by the hood and giving a corny smile. "And number two; elaboration to number one."

"Don't talk. Don't interact. Do exactly as I say. Got it?"

I got it, alright. I was a professional at not standing out  _or_  speaking up. I nodded promptly before gesturing hesitantly at the door. With a tired look on her face, Natalie nodded.

Everything seemed to flash after that until I was in the middle of a walking-rant about one of the only people I could trust; my friend, Taylor, who I'd lost contact with about a year ago.

"...and then there was this one time, where they tried to build a fort out of chairs, and it collapsed, and..."

I stopped talking like an idiot as soon as she stopped dead in front of a house.

A house in the neighborhood right next to mine.

She turned to me with a half-smirk, half-scowl.

"Remember, you  _better_  not mess this up, or it's bye-bye to daylight for the rest of your god forsaken life. Got it?"

I nodded hastily and scratched my arms, trying to soothe myself. Something seemed wrong with this house, but I wasn't going to say anything now. I couldn't, anyway; I didn't know why I was unsettled by this one in particular.

I just knew I didn't want to go inside. Not with her.

We approached a second story window that I assumed led to a bedroom. She stared up at it for about 10 seconds, and I began wondering if she knew what she was doing. After a while, I meekly asked, "Uh...how are we going to--"

She turned her head sharply towards me and pulled out a gigantic rope out of nowhere.

"How did you think, dumbass," she answered snidely before swinging it up and releasing it into the air with unbelievable accuracy. Without taking her eyes off me, she proceeded to throw a small knife almost like a dart and pinned the rope perfectly in place.

I stopped myself from gaping as her disturbingly expressionless face morphed back into her usual smug self. "Come on. I am  _not_  leaving you here by yourself out of my sight."

We climbed up (her being far more agile than me) and at the top, a cleaver seemed to materialize in her hand as she punched through the window screen, and slid the glass up to climb inside. I followed suit, feeling a growing lump in my throat as I remembered why we were here in the first place.

As I stepped into the room, I felt a strange sense of familiarity, though I knew I'd never been in this house. It unsettled me to look around, but I didn't want to look at the bed; someone I know could be about to meet their ultimate demise, and I would rather not look. Eventually, I shut my eyes.

"Wakey, wakey," she cooed to the unsuspecting person. I waited for their terrified response.

"...Alex?"


	15. Chapter 15

My eyes snapped open, and I immediately glanced towards the bed.  _No, no no no no._  I tilted my head down, avoiding their eyes. "...Natalie. We should go. Just find--"

"Shut up," she hissed, not taking her eyes off Taylor. My almost-best friend who I forgot lived just a mile away from me. Who probably was the one who had texted me, asking if I was okay a month ago.

And they were about to die.

"Natalie, let's  _go,_ " I repeated, making to tug on her arm. But she turned her head sharply, glaring furiously at me. "Shut your mouth,  _human._ "

I gulped and stepped back, folding my hands over the bottom half of my face. I couldn't watch this. At best, I couldn't let this just happen.

Taylor glanced back and forth between me and her, their face almost disfigured with confusion and fear. "Alex, what's going on? Who is..."

I ducked my head and shut my eyes. I felt guilt inching up my throats and I started feeling sick. My thoughts were garbled.

Natalie slowly turned her attention back to them, a twisted grin spreading on her face. "Now, there's no need to worry about a thing!" she whispered without an ounce of sincerity. Her entire face seemed to be morphing until it looked exactly how I'd expect with her story; eyes widened with insanity, her eyebrows almost completely covered by her hair. And a wide, killer smile to drive Jeffery Woods into the ground.

"In fact..." she continued ominously, slowly reaching for her blade, "...you won't have to worry about anything. Ever again." She slowly inched towards their face, and before I could process anything the cleaver was right at their throat.

"As long as you keep your mouth shut for these last five seconds of yours," she finished with a growl.

My breathing quickened. I'd been in this position twice, and twice was more than enough. I couldn't let her.

"Natalie, please," I uttered louder, reaching to pull her away. "Don't do thi--"

"Alex, shut the fuck up. Okay? I'm not in the mood for playing any more games with you." She almost snapped her neck, twisting it to face me. She gestured towards Taylor, and my heart pounded faster at their terrified face.

"This, this poor little soul? This tiny speck of human existence?" Her insanity seemed to kick in again, and the grin slowly spread across her face again. "Their time is up. Now, if you'll excu--"

I shoved her into the bedside table and pulled on Taylor's arm, nudging them towards the door.

"Go. Now."

Taylor looked at me incredulously. "What?"

"Leave. Hide somewhere. Call the police. Just  _do_  something."

They left without question.

I turned back to Natalie, who was still leaning in the collapsed night table, her face darkened. Only a portion of her clock stood out.

I swallowed hard.  _Oh. I actually did that. She's really going to kill me now._  I heard soft, ironic laughter, and immediately recognized that as a sign that I fucked up.

"Well, you've really done it now. Nice job," she muttered, slowly standing up to face me. It was only now that I noticed that she was distinctly taller than me.

"I'm so sorry."

"That really changes things, doesn't it? 'Scuse me for a second." She shot past my trembling figure, and I struggled to reach the door before she did. Somehow, I succeeded, and gripped the doorframe.

"Please. Stop it," I almost whimpered. "If you just--"

"Did you not hear me?" She demanded, not bothering to push past me again. "I'm  _done_  playing games. God damnit, Alex," she chuckled darkly to herself. "This is because I spared you. Isn't it? Because I'm sorry, sweetie, but I can't just spare  _every single_  goddamn human being I come across, now can I?" She growled. Before I could respond, she grabbed my arm and dragged me down the hall, stalking the sound of Taylor's footsteps echoing in the otherwise silent house.

"I get it now. You think you can fix me. You're trying, you think you can persuade me again like that one night. Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but you can't."

I struggled to keep up, and mustered, "Why not? Why can't y-you just spare them, like me? Just for once?!"

She stopped and gripped both my shoulders, looking me directly in the eye. "Because that is not how this  _works!_ I am already going above and beyond, just keeping you alive. Do you have any idea what kind of exception you are to the rules?"

"What rules?!" I yelled, apathy building up inside me.  _I am being starved of answers._

She didn't respond.

And downstairs, we heard a muffled voice.

_"Please, hurry...Yeah, I know. A clock...Taylor Giovanni and Alex Schröder. Please. You have to believe me."_

I stared her in the eye and frantically shook my head. "Please," I muttered, my voice shaking. "You don't have to..."

I didn't get a verbal response. What I got was an apologetic look and Natalie Ouellette walking down the stairs with a cleaver in hand.

My ears were covered when the painful scream came.


	16. Chapter 16

I walked out the back door after her with my head hung low. Something squirmed inside my stomach, and I kept opening my mouth to say something. Nothing would come out, though.

I couldn't help but think about Taylor. The memory seemed like it would remain fresh in my head for years. My mind wouldn't go to anything but their terrified face, and their lifeless body leaning against the wall.

_She seemed so disappointed in me, too._  I hesitated to look at Natalie. She seemed unfazed, but I knew that at least some part of her felt guilty. She  _had_  to. You can't just kill someone like that, and not feel anything...can you?

_God, I'm so selfish. Now that my best friend is dead, I'm only now beginning to see how fucked up this all is._ I pulled my hood up and folded my arms shamefully, saving a pitiful cry-fest for later. No point in shedding tears in a lamp-lit street, with nobody but a killer to hear.

We walked silently for a while, almost about to shrink into the woods again when a low, windy sound made me flinch. Natalie almost snapped her neck while whirling around to  _shush_  me, when she realized that I didn't do anything.

A car was roaming on the other side of the street.

"Shit," she hissed, grabbing my arm and ducking behind a tree. My breath quickened as I heard the vehicle getting louder and closer. Natalie seemed frozen, plastered to the tree. I grazed her arm in some attempt to snap her out of it. "Why aren't you running?" I whispered almost harshly.

"Shut up."

I shut up.

The sound stopped. I couldn't see anything beyond a small part of the pavement.  _We're dead._

_Click._

_"Ma'am. Step out from behind the tree."_

I saw Natalie's eye widen, and the glow usually surrounding her clock seemed to dull. I stopped breathing.

_"Miss Ouellette. Miss Schröder. Step out onto the street, and drop whatever weapons you may have."_

I stifled a gulp.  _Oh._

To my surprise and delayed horror, Natalie obliged, stepping snidely out into the light of a nearby street lamp. She looked like some sort of noir detective. Or suspect.

I saw her cleaver's signature red-tinted shine, and something caught in my throat. Her face was almost relaxed.  _Okay. Maybe's she's dealt with this before. She's just going to kill an entire police squad. No big deal._

The speaker seemed to sigh into their megaphone, or whatever they were using. "Okay. I guess one is enough," they muttered.

"Define  _weapon,_ " Natalie uttered inquiringly without her usual sarcastic edge.  _Something is definitely wrong._

When the officer didn't respond, she elaborated. "Y'see, something like...say, a gun? Or a chainsaw? Nobody just walks around at night with a  _chainsaw._ " I saw a stitched corner of her mouth widen in a smirk.

"However, as you can  _clearly_  see, I happen to have just a cleaver in hand. You know, a  _tool._ "

_There is no way something like that would fucking work._

_"Natalia Ouellette, please drop the cleaver and release Miss Shröder from your custody,"_  the officer reinforced with an annoyed edge.  _"You are under arrest for charges of arson, property damage, kidnapping, and manslaughter. You are to--"_

Somehow, he never finished his sentence. It probably had to do with the fact that he was dead before he had hit the ground; he'd let Natalie get a little too close for comfort.

As soon as the first one went down, I stepped out from behind the tree, wide-eyed.  _No way._

She giggled as she sliced at another cop, slitting his throat and making him tumble to the ground with a disgusting gurgling sound. I held my breath; seeing it in real life was not only terrifying and surreal, but disgusting.

The fun wouldn't last that long for her. Within a minute, she was being held by the limbs and throat.

_What?_

"You goddamn bastards! You don't know--"

_"You have the right--"_

"Do you have any idea what I--"

Their voices kept overlapping each other, and meanwhile I was standing on the pavement ten feet away. Frozen. Like...like...

_Like a fucking squirrel._

Something clicked inside my chest, and I noticed her cleaver on the ground. Just within reach.

_Isn't it about time you had some fun for once?_

"Alexandra Schröder. Please stay right where you are, the police--"

" _Alex, don't just stand there, help me out, for Christ's sake._ "

I froze, the cleaver in hand. What I did right now would literally change my life. I could either stop, and let the infamous Clockwork go to prison, or worse. Or I could live in a log cabin with a serial killer for the rest of my life, with my own little record.

How could the voice in my head resist?

"Alex! How fucking  _dare_  you just--you're nothing without me!  _Nothing!_  You had nothing to lose when you came with me. Please..." I heard her voice grow fainter and fainter. Maybe that's what did it.

As they... _escorted_  Natalie away, I silently skipped up to the SWAT team and sang daintily, "Mister Officer?"

When one of them turned around, my vision went red, and I suspect theirs did the same.

_Isn't this fun?_

...

After God knows how long, I dropped the blade, and something caught in my throat.  _What did I just do?_

I turned to see her gaping at me. Her arms and legs had been released. My stomach dropped.  _This was my fault. She's going to gut me and chain me to a basement wall as another piece of art._  Something was burning in her eye; I swore it was changing colors.

Her shocked look suddenly turned back into a glare, and she growled, "Give that to me,  _human,_ " gesturing at the bloodied knife on the ground. "We're going home.  _Now._ "

I gulped, and quickly nodded. Picking up the "tool" on the ground and walking over to hand it to her, I hung my head. She snatched it away and pocketed it, and grabbed me by the hood to drag me back to the house.


	17. Chapter 17

I was practically thrown into the front hall, waiting for my impending death.  _I screwed up really bad this time. For all I know, she'll just leave me for dead in the woods._

"Now," I jumped as I heard her speak softly. "What in the everliving  _hell_  did you do." It was more of a statement than a question, and I shut my mouth, knowing better than to really answer.

"It really does seem to me that you tried to make me spare the life of yet  _another_  worthless, insolent human being." She slowly circled around me as she spoke, and I kept my gaze locked on the floor, not daring to look her in the eye. A quiet scratching noise told me that she had drawn the knife out of her pocket, and I stifled another anxious gulp.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm really sorry. I won't ask to go outside again--"

"Oh, you're sorry...? Well, I guess that changes the fact that you fucking  _tripped me up_ , doesn't it now? That little brat called the police. More than a whole  _squad_. Mind you, these nice guys already recognized me. They  _SWAT'ed_  me. I almost got overwhelmed by a bunch of mortal idiots with batons. And I get a  _sorry_  from the little shit that ruined a killing spree." She gestured at me, her voice not raising a bit.

"I-I  _know._  And I'm so sorry. I can't handle this stuff like you can. I'm-I'm not some cold-hearted killer like you. I can't go through with these things--"

"Then what did you do to those police officers."

The breath caught in my throat, and I almost looked up in surprise.  _Did I mess up even more than I thought?!_

She yanked my chin up roughly, forcing me to look at her, and pressed the bloodstained knife to my chin. "I said,  _what did you do_  to those police officers, you stupid--"

"I k-killed them. I fucking  _killed_  them, Clockwork. Is that what you wanted to hear?" I choked out, glaring back with sudden intensity.

She frowned. "Not that.  _After_  they were already dead."

"What are you talking about?! I just killed them, I dropped the knife once it was done, you saw me!"

"No." She shook her head slowly. She let go of me, turning around to face the door. "You were monstrous. I know what I saw, Alex. You...you tore them apart. You split one officer at the stomach. You gouged his eyes out, and flipped his chest open to see the ribs. You slashed at someone else's kidneys. It was gory, grotesque. It was horrific. It was amazing." She turned around to face me again, stepping closer and narrowing her eyes.

_I...oh. Oh, god. I really did that. I'm finally losing it. I just turned a police squad into a bloodbath. Why?! Was it because they were going to..._

"And here you are, all innocent,  _claiming_  you can't go through to watch me kill someone, when you did that and more five times over yourself."

I let out a breath I didn't know I had been holding, and forced myself to look her in the eye. "Are...are you still mad--?"

" _Mad?!_ Of course I'm still fucking mad! You ruined my reputation! I almost got arrested, thanks to your  _chivalry_ , or whatever," she snapped, taking a step closer so our foreheads were almost touching. Her eyes almost looked blue instead of green.

"I might let you off this one time, only because you technically saved your own skin. But if you pull a  _stunt_  like that again--if you ruin one other little thing like that again--I'm going to have to not be so nice."

I felt a burning in my chest and throat. I suddenly started glaring back at her again.

"Is it my fault I wanted to go out once?" I asked quietly. "Is it my fault I got taken here? Is it my fault you haven't told me anything useful as to  _why_  I was brought here in the first place? Am I really so bratty that I tried to stop you from taking an innocent life, or was it maybe because you did that anyway with me?" I took a step back, not knowing how to stop my anger. "Do you seriously think that  _I'm_ the only one who benefitted from that squad dying? Are you seriously telling me you didn't need any help, and that I was killing only for my stupid, selfish reasons?! Because here's what I think;" I took a shaky breath, my hands hurting. All the while I was looking at her, but I couldn't see how she was reacting. I was too engulfed in myself.

"I could have left you. I'm not your partner in crime; you  _kidnapped_  me. You threatened me. You degraded me. And for what? I didn't have to kill them. But I did. And now thanks to me saving  _both_  of our asses, you threaten me again. Why?! You never told me. Why are you keeping me here? Why does it seem like sometimes you enjoy my company, and then the next second you want to torture me like some sort of pri--"

She stepped towards me and grabbed my shoulders, pulling me into a kiss.

I tried stepping back, my stomach churning, but she held onto me tightly and pulled me closer.

I didn't feel safe; I was far from feeling anything comprehensible. It felt nice, but an odd kind of nice. With some sort of danger bubbling underneath. I felt fearful for my life, even more than before.

Every second, she pulled me closer, deepening the kiss until she was almost biting my lips. I started hyperventilating, and she wrapped an arm around my neck, running her fingers through my hair.

I finally pushed her off, but we were still only inches away from each other.

Her expression hadn't changed; she still had a condescending frown and her eye was still narrowed in annoyance.

"Consider this," she muttered, grabbing my chin again. My face immediately turned red, and I glared at her.  _What gives her the right to make me feel flustered when I'm standing up for myself for once?!_  She gave a knowing smirk at this, and pressed her thumb to my mouth as if she were examining me.

"Maybe there's more than one reason I keep you here with me."

I shoved her away, breathing heavily.  _This can't be what the rest of my life is going to be like. Trapped in a log cabin in the middle of the woods with some possessive, lovesick serial killer._

Her face morphed back into a scowl, and she dismissively gestured to my 'room.'

"Get some sleep, why don't you."

I didn't need to be asked twice.


	18. Chapter 18

* * *

Since I had nothing to write on, the Notes app would have to do.

"Dear me, this was the last and only time I'm ever going to ask to leave this hellhole. I've been here for over a month and everything's already kicking in. The knives, jars of kidneys in the freezer, and the room of clocks. She even manages to suspend them on the ceiling. Who does that?"

I took a shaky breath and tried not to look up. Right now was designated me-time. Everything else could scram.

Ever since I'd rushed back to this room, I figured I'd lose track of time quickly. So much could happen when it only seems like a split second. But staying here for almost a full 24 hours only seemed to prove so far that time moved slowly. Really slowly. It was like insomnia, the full trial instead of a two-week package.  _Maybe I_ am _weak._

"Maybe...I... _am_...weak," I muttered to myself as I typed. "So far, everything that's happened has gotten some terrified or indifferent reaction from me. On the outside, I don't do or say anything, and that seems to get me by. But I feel like I may be losing my mind at this point, and it's happening way too fast to be normal. I should be able to take this stuff; I've seen way worse."

My mind inevitably flashed to an even more unhelpful subject, and I found myself sitting blankly with my phone screen dimming, thinking about everything that happened a day ago.

My eyebrows furrowed as I realized it.

"I wasted my time," I breathed.

The very night I got taken away from my kind-of normal life, I had access to a person who knew who I was, where I lived, and cared about whether I was safe or not. It would be stupid not to assume that person was Taylor; only a mile away in a more...secluded neighborhood, and they could have heard news, or been walking late that night.  _Well, really late. It was 2:05._

I shook the thought off and continued inside my head. I couldn't write anything else down; it would stop making sense once I did.

I hadn't gotten any more texts after that. Maybe they forgot about me. Maybe they assumed I was dead, or was waiting anxiously for a reply. Either way, just asking "Who are you?" could have saved my life. At best, I would get back in touch with the only person who really cared about me.

And now I can't do anything. Taylor is gone. The only person who remembers my name now is some 911 dispatcher, and they probably couldn't care less.

And Clockwork. Oh, I am  _not_  ready to think about her again.

But right as I thought that, I also realized I had no choice. There was a knock at my door, and not answering would be stupid.

"Why'd you knock," was all I could muster as I opened the creaky door, my head hanging. She didn't come in. I figured it was because I was blocking the doorway, and I sat back down on my bed, facing away from her.

She still didn't move.

I sighed, and reluctantly patted the spot next to me. If I was going to see her, at the very least she shouldn't be just staring at me.

"Look, I'm sorry," I heard her say blandly. She stayed rooted to her spot.

I stopped myself from saying, "I know."  _That would just be conceited._ Instead, I blew out roughly and gripped the bedsheets tightly. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but...you shouldn't be."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her furrow her eyebrows. "Are you serious? I'm--I'm actually trying to be  _genuine_  right now, and you're not even accepting an apology." She paused, but I knew she had more to say. "Okay. I know I fucked up. I shouldn't have said those things. You...you _know_ I didn't mean them, right?"

I hugged my sweater to my chest, pushing back the memories. They seemed a lot more dramatic than they probably really were. "No. I don't."

She seemed to deflate a little. I couldn't help but feel sorry for her, as static as I was pretending to be right now. "Just...sit down, next to me. And we could, like, talk about our feelings or some shit."

She wrinkled her nose. "Like a married couple?"

_What even am I to you?_

"Just sit down, Natalie."

She sat down and picked at her stitches with her fingernails. For once, I noticed she didn't have a knife on her. I took a deep breath before trying to organize my thoughts in a way that would make sense.

"I...no, wait. Y-you were probably panicking when, uh..." I paused, not knowing what to call the police incident. "You know." I stole a quick glance to make sure she was following. Her face was facing the floor, expressionless.

I sucked in my cheeks awkwardly before continuing. "...yeah. So, I-I'm probably not right about this. But, when you said that...well, I was 'nothing' without you..." I took a deep breath. "I...didn't actually notice that until later. I was in some sort of daze. All...all I really recognized you saying at the time was that I needed to help you."

"Alex, I'm really fucking sorry. I shouldn't have said it, I didn't mean--"

"It doesn't matter now. You  _did_ mean it."

She quickly turned towards me, frustrated. "No, I didn't!"

"You did, though. You were scared. You had to say  _something._ I get it."

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "...I don't get you. What's your point? Do you hate me or not?"

"You think  _I_ know? You're a killer, Natalie. You killed my only childhood friend and told me I was nothing. You took me from my home and threatened me multiple times. But...I don't even know anymore." I took a deep breath and stared at the floor. "I don't even know."

That seemed to shut her up, whether I intended it or not.

After a few minutes, something shook me, and I was enveloped in a warm fur coat and a wild tangle of brown hair. She was hugging me.

I found myself digging my face into her shoulder in acceptation. _Now this is genuine._

"Please," she mumbled. "Believe me. I'm so sorry." I heard a sigh, and her grip loosened. "I'm fucked up, Alex. You're right. I...I was scared. And I'm sorry."

"I shouldn't have tried to stop you. I just made everything worse," I blurted, my voice almost muffled by the fur. I tasted a slight metallic tang, but for some reason I wasn't disgusted. I wasn't really _anything_.

"No, no. Don't you go apologizing to me. Goddamnit...you're right about me. You're right to question me. I...the truth is..." she sighed again, and pulled away, holding me at arm's length. "I honestly don't know why I brought you here. I don't know why I didn't kill you. The truth is, you're not the only person I've met who I wanted to spare."

I don't know what I expected, but it wasn't that. I somehow felt hurt at that. _Don't be like that. You really don't think you're actually special, right?_

"I was being stupid, and impulsive, and...I just wanted to do what I wanted for once. No, that's...I _always_ just do what I want. I wanted to do something different." She looked up, and her mouth looked twisted, like it was trying to break free from the stitches.

Somehow, I knew how she felt.

"I really haven't told you anything, have I?" She almost whispered. I hesitantly forced myself to nod. She had been disturbingly open, yeah. But she never really opened up.

I sighed. "I mean...I haven't, either."


	19. Chapter 19

At least I stayed true to my word.

I didn't  _ask_  to leave; she invited me to join her in the forest. I rummaged through a drawer and stuffed a small knife in my pocket, paranoia gnawing at me more than usual. The night was pitch black, and Natalie's eye seemed to glow. Maybe it was reflecting the little moonlight shedding through the forest leaves.

It had almost been a month since...well, I'd call it our "falling out," but we hadn't really gotten close before that. Maybe it took five dead cops and a kiss to make me realize that we should at least be friends at this point.

Natalie beckoned me to the door, a small smirk playing on her lips. I rolled my eyes and adjusted my sweater.

"What if someone sees you?" I asked quietly as we stepped out into the woods, leaves crunching beneath the snow. I shivered, noting how soft the powder was under my feet.

"Do you remember how long we had to run from your place to get here? I'd say we're pretty safe."

I couldn't argue with that. I felt like I almost passed out that night.

"What are we even supposed to do here?"

Natalie shrugged. "I don't know. Talk. Hang out. Get some  _fresh air._ " She put air quotes around the two words, and I snickered.

"Well...the snow is nice," I offered with no point. I just wanted something to talk about, and so far I was failing.

She gave me an odd look, and then suddenly shrugged again. "Okay." Before I could react, she fell backwards into the fine powder. I stumbled backwards, and tried to hold back a giggle. I could tell she was trying even harder than me not to laugh.

I exhaled and sat next to her, arms folded across my knees. A soft wind blew the hair out of both of our faces; I looked over at her, and for a moment she looked genuinely happy.

After a while, she sighed and sat up, leaving an imprint in the snow. The back of her hair was coated in tiny white flakes. "You know, I don't think I've ever really asked you anything about yourself. I mean, so far...so far I've just been assuming shit."

I raised an eyebrow at her. "So, should I just tell you my entire life story now?"

"I don't know," she admitted, lifting an icy hand to scratch her head awkwardly. "I mean, you obviously know all there is to know about  _me._ " My eyebrows furrowed.  _Your Time is Up_  couldn't have contained everything there is to know about her.

"I do?"

"Just, nevermind." She waved her hand hastily, pursing her lips. "Uh...why don't you just, maybe start from the beginning...why did you live alone, anyway?"

"How do you know about that?"

Her nose and cheeks darkened with a tinge of embarrassment. "...I mean...I can't just sneak into  _any_  house and risk being seen by the wrong person, right?" She averted her eyes and took remarkable interest in a nearby tree.

I closed my eyes and pinched my forehead. "Right. You stalked me. I probably should've guessed by now." Sighing, I dug my fingers into the ground, the cold almost slicing through my skin. "Well, I guess there's kind of a lot of reasons for that..."

Natalie sucked in her cheeks in thought. "Well...if you're comfortable...why don't you start with your parents? Did anything happen with them?"

I paused and looked down, my hands twitching. “My parents..." I exhaled sharply, almost wincing.

"Well, firstly, I was an only child. So I never really had to share anything, my parents payed attention to me the...average amount. But when I started going to college, it was kind of early for my age, so I still had to rely on them a lot.” I shrugged, but then drew in a shaky breath.

“Long story short, we fought. A lot. They didn't want to give me money anymore. I couldn't pay off debt. The shitty scholarship expired. That's why I dropped out and had to take a bunch of part-time jobs. Turns out they just wanted to get rid of me as soon as I hit 18. When I found out, it kind of felt like a slap,” I continued to deadpan. I tried wiping an incoming tear as subtly as I could, but I could feel her staring at me intently. “...everything was so much better as a kid. I don't know if they even thought of me as a burden back then.”

Natalie was silent for a couple of seconds. Then she sighed and sat down next to me.

“At least your parents cared. At all.”

I glanced towards her, and there was nothing sarcastic or playful in her tone.  _Why did I even try explaining my “tragic” past to someone like her? She’s had it so much worse, I shouldn’t talk._

“...but I’m sorry they just turned on you like that. They didn’t deserve a kid if they were just going to screw you over,” she finished, confusing the hell out of me.

“...well, I mean, at one point...I kinda felt like it was my fault. Like I deserved it. I shouldn’t have asked them for help so much, I probably shouldn’t have even gone to college that early. I wouldn’t be able to handle it.”

She just looked at me. Her face was a blank slate. “Did your parents want you to go?”

I furrowed my eyebrows. “...well, yeah.”

“Then it wasn’t your fault,” she stated simply. "Parents can be pushy, annoying fucks sometimes. I should know." She cracked a sassy grin, and I held back a chuckle.

I looked up at the sky. I'd expected that there would be at least a reddish tint to it, but it was still a midnight-ish black, the moon glowing against the dark blanket.


	20. Chapter 20

I couldn't sleep.

Well, no shit, Alex. Maybe elaborate on specifically  _why._

I couldn't sleep  _soundly_  because I kept hearing scuffling. There was always sound that would reach my ears, especially when I was trying to sleep. But this was the uncomfortable kind of noise. The kind of noise that suffocates you, like when you're trying to sleep but people are talking or having a party nearby.

But I heard scuffling, struggling, and eventually a gagging noise, like someone was choking on their own blood.

There was definitely  _talking._  But it was either so hushed or I was so far away that I couldn't make out any words. Just a garbled conversation that meant something to them. But not me. I got out of bed and made for the hallway, my eyelids trying to yank me back to sleep.

I felt something tug near my shirt and had a slight spasm before I realized it was just my phone. It was buzzing like there was no tomorrow, and I mentally cursed.  _Shut up. Shut up. I'm trying to do this quietly._ I quickly pulled it out, cupping the screen in one hand so I wouldn't be blinded by the light.

I had a barrage of text messages from the same number. An unknown number.

_The_ number.

I stared blankly at each one. I didn't even have to open my phone to see them. They were all short, but each one gave me an inexplicable chill.

_I hope you're okay. I'm coming to get you._

_I'm here_

_She's asleep. Don't worry._

_I'm by the front door_

By the time my screen dimmed completely, my eyes were starting to brim with tears. I couldn't place why. Maybe it was because whoever they were, even if it was a stalker, they cared about me. Maybe it was because it was the same person who'd contacted me months ago, and that Taylor really  _had_  completely forgotten about me.

Or maybe it was because whoever they were, I knew they were dead already.

I carried myself as fast as I could down the hallway, despite being continually dragged down by tiredness. I stopped in my tracks as soon as I heard someone talking again.

"...know anything about that. I will  _pulverize_  anyone who touches her, and I have no problem doing that same with you, whoever the fuck you are."

"She's going to die. At some point, you or someone else  _will_  do it. It's only safe that you get rid of her now. Or...she could end up just like you."

"And what's wrong with being me?"

"I'll put it this way: Physically mutilated. Emotionally unbalanced.  _Mentally_...well, I could write a book. And, ah, it would be  _you_  who damages her like that."

The next thing I heard was a gut, a grunt, and a sickening crunching sound.

_Clockwork found her element._

"I thought you said you...what was it? ‘Were a killer too,'" she giggled, staring condescendingly at the corpse. I saw her comb her fingers through her hair, pushing it back like she had just finished working out and was headed home. Maybe, in a way, that's what it was like for her.

Something sunk in my stomach as I finally processed what both of them had said.

_I hope you're okay. I'm coming to get you._

I knew it had been a lost cause for them from the beginning. But given that choice, who should I have trusted? Would I have still chosen to stay if I had a chance to leave here, with someone who cared for my safety?

My worries slipped out in one word.

"N-Natalie...?" I whimpered.

Something caught in my throat as she twisted her head to look at me. She almost looked alarmed, like she was caught stealing a cookie. Eventually her features relaxed, but I didn't feel reassured.

"Just some intruder," she muttered, quickly stuffing her hands in her pockets.  _Was she holding a knife?_  "I'm just cleaning up the mess. It’s okay."

It's okay.

_It's okay._

After a moment, I slowly nodded and turned back around.

_I shouldn't be thinking about these things. They're dead. I'm not. Maybe that's all that matters right now._

"Try to get some sleep," I heard her call out to me. I almost snickered to myself.

_A little late for that._


	21. Chapter 21

I stared at the pile of burnt waffle batter in front of me and heaved a sigh. When Natalie shot a quizzical look at me, I reluctantly pulled out my phone and folded my arms.

"Who was that person you killed last night...?"

"No idea. What's it to you?" She responded automatically.

I raised my eyebrows at her bluntness. I'd expected her to answer with something at least a little vague or disturbing. But this was overt enough to tell me that she was being completely honest.

Or lying right to my face.

Either way, I was at a loss for what to say next, so I opened up my texts and hesitantly handed my phone to her.

"There was this person that texted me when...when I first came here. Last night, they said that they were here. To...to get me."

As she sifted through the messages intently, I saw her face slowly go pale.  _She must have not even asked what they were here to do._

"...shit," She muttered, dropping the phone on the table and squeezing her eye shut. " _Shit,_ " she repeated, considerably louder. After a minute of her rubbing her forehead, she cracked an eye open in my direction and seemed to wince. "I...I'm sorry."

"What? Why are you sorry?"

"I..." I seemed to have caught her in  _something._  Her face darkened in hue, and her lips made a strange, wavering shape. "Well...it's just, I would have kicked their ass even more if I knew they were coming for  _you._ "

I comically put a hand to my chest, pretending to be touched. It didn't seem to lift her mood that much.

My gaze shifting to the side, I grappled for something that would break the tension.

"...I saw your tulip on the wall."

Natalie glanced up at me again, her cheeks flushing.  _So that's what gets her. Art._

"It looks nice," I added quietly.

"Don't say that," she muttered automatically. "It's made of, like...you know...blood..." She trailed off and rubbed her eyes, defeated. Her shoulders slumped and she seemed like she would collapse on the table soon.

I raised an eyebrow. "Well,  _someone_  just got five years older. I used to draw too, you know."

Once I said that, I immediately regretted it.  _No, no, I didn't need to add that. She probably already knows that. Stupid. Stupid. Now I'll never hear the end of it._

Slowly, cautiously, she raised her head curiously, and I could almost hear the gears in her brain at work. She glanced at the table in thought. "Oh...that's right. You did..."

I threw my hands up with an aggravated air. "And you already knew that. Because you stalked me. I keep forgetting." I sighed, and looked exhaustedly back at her. I furrowed my eyebrows when I noticed she was smirking. It was tiny; but she was  _smirking._

_Shit._

"What now," I groaned. Her grin only widened.

"Nothing. I'm just thinking."

"About what, Natalie. It's literally  _never_  nothing with you."

She glanced up and twiddled her thumbs, like she had acquired some kind of newfound energy out of nowhere. "Two tortured artists in the same room, dealing with the same bleak, ruthless world," she muttered dreamily. "Well, Alex, it just seems to me that now you have something to prove. To me."

I folded my arms and slouched onto the table. "Pardon my French, but what the fuck are you talking about."

"I'm just saying! We're not really going anywhere for a while here. Might as well at least  _try_  to bond as girlfriends. Specifically, drawing. More specifically, we draw something for each other."

I raised my eyebrows and almost laughed. "So, we're a thing now? Is that what I'm supposed to get from this Clockwork-seminar?"

"Please, for the love of God, do not call it that."

"Understood."

"And besides, do you have a better idea on how to spend months in a log cabin with your  _favorite_  psychopath?" She folded her hands elegantly on the word  _favorite_  and flashed a pretty smile.

I let out a chuckle poorly disguised as a sigh and stood up from my seat. "You're on, Ouellette."


	22. just a tiny update/question for you guys:

How many of you guys actually read my story?? Bc I seem to be getting a lot of ghosts now and almost no feedback, I wanna see what y’all think!!  
Honestly you can just put “w” in the comments for all I care I just feel like I’m writing this for nobody. I mean sure it is fun writing it and I love my baby characters and story, but I also publish it on websites like this so that other people can read it too!!  
Idk if I’m coming off as whiny or anything, I really hope I’m not. It’s just that I can see the people read this, but either they’re just not interested or they just don’t feel like commenting. Well, now’s the time, fellas.  
Also I’m kinda running out of ideas and I feel like I need just a little more action happening before I unleash The Big Thing that happens near the end. (there’s a smiley boi who makes a small cameo my dudes, you don’t wanna miss that)  
So please comment suggestions!! I want to hear from people who actually enjoy this story and want to see more!!  
Ok peace fellow gays I must go  
-sky


	23. Chapter 23

So, turns out a slow-burn art "competition" is a lot less intense than I thought it'd be. And that's saying something, considering the person I'm up against. At that point I:

A) Hadn't been sketching in general for months, even before I was kidnapped and

B) Had no means to do so now.

Or so I thought.

I should really have guessed that someone like Natalie would have cheap art supplies all around, #2 pencils and all. I felt caught off guard when she lazily pointed towards what I assumed to be one of her many knife drawers after I asked about what I had to use. Somehow, and for whatever reason, it was stock full of snapped pencils, leaking pens, and a stack of computer paper I was surprised wasn't coated in mold.

_Guess I don't need Mother Necessity here._

So naturally I waited almost a week before actually getting to work. There was another problem proposed to me. By me. And that problem was called  _what the fuck am I supposed to draw for a gay serial killer._

"...flowers...?" I muttered, laying down on my cot with my feet against the wall. I flung my head back and stared, almost delirious, at the row of knives opposite me.  _But something gory would be too predictable, too._

"Thinking about stuff?" An amused voice inquired from the doorway.

"Yep," I said blandly, not bothering to turn my head. Instead, I sat up, and winced at the sudden blood rush.  _When have I even done that last? And why did I ever forget something as fucked up?_

"Nice. Hey, do you need anything? Because it's almost eleven."

"Nah. Unless someone's got, like, a turkey dinner or something. I'm good."

She seemed to hesitate, then slowly nodded. "Ok. I'll get you some socks."

I turned towards her, still holding my head. "But I said I'm good."

Natalie smirked, not even bothering to hide it. "You've been walking around in the same clothes for months. Barefoot, if I might add."

" _You've_ been down that road for years," I protested, growing a little self-conscious.

"But unlike me, you got cold feet." She paused. "Heh. Cold feet.  _An_ yway, I'll see you around. You keep...thinking, I guess. Whatever you're doing."

"Later."

A minute later, the door slammed and I was left with paper, a pencil, and negative 2 ideas.

I decided legitimate, overboard brainstorming should do  _something_. If anything, I could be given a clear idea on what definitely  _not_  to draw.

I scratched the paper with graphite for a while until I had a solid list. And by solid, I mean almost a square foot of pure words.

**_Things that remind me of Natalie_ **

**Trees, blood, knives, cleavers, windows, maple leaves, clocks, needles, green, sand, sunset, moon, stars, scars, bird nest, cats, spiders, owls, organs, eyeballs, bread, heavy metal, 12:00, 2:05, forest, love, chocolate chip cookies** **, violin, fur coat**

I stared at the list in half agony, half a dumbfounded mess. Somehow, something felt off about doing this.  _Maybe drawing something related to Natalie would be too predictable, too._

"...shit," I muttered, flopping back and resting my head on the mattress. "What should I dooooo..."

_Screw it! Maybe just draw her anyway. It'll feed her ego and I won't have to suffer through this bitch of a creative process._

I groaned in defeat and grabbed another sheet of paper.  _She's probably in the forest in a lot of her spare time...and she twiddles little daggers between her fingers a lot._

With that in mind, I got to work: part 2.


	24. Chapter 24

My hand found the will to make lines. Those lines, for some reason, found the will to form into a semi-decent picture. My right arm was aching by the time I allowed myself to say “screw it” and call it a day, and I flipped the paper over, not bothering to face my half-assed creation.

_And guess who’ll conveniently come knocking once I make it visible again._

I groaned and sat up, crossing my legs in some attempt to balance myself. My feet had fallen asleep, and so had part of my left hand that was holding down the paper. A twinge of annoyance forced me to stand up, kick the drawing aside, and exit the room without a second thought. _Time to eat my feelings away._

As I sighed and trudged down the hall, I noticed that the room at the end wasn’t illuminated like usual. I mean, there was obviously some kind of light on. But the space was tinted a kind of dull blue, like if you looked out your window in the middle of the night.

Silence. The cabin felt like silence. Looked like it, even. I felt a pit in my stomach, some sense of dread. As if something terrible had just happened.

_Oh, god. Maybe she’s finally lost it._

_Maybe she’s really gonna kill me._

I heard a faint scoff from the clock room. It almost sounded like crying. But...angrier. It was an uncanny sound bordering on laughter. Something just sounded devastating about it.

“ _G-god..._ ”

“Natalie?”

I squeezed my eyes shut and turned the corner quickly, preparing myself for death when I heard a sharp inhale. _Did I actually surprise her?_ I cracked one eyelid open.

Natalie was slouching in a wooden chair, covering her “good” eye. Patches of her hair were missing. A good portion of her was covered in blood, even more so than usual. There was a long streak of crimson splitting her face. Even she looked traumatized.

“Alex...!” Her voice was nasally and cracked. So she was crying.

For some reason, tears started brimming in my eyes, and I felt like punching something. “Holy fuck, Natalie, what happened?”

“I was...no. I won’t tell you.”

“Natalie, I swear to god, _I’m_ gonna turn psychotic if you don’t tell me who did this.”

“That’s not how it works, and no you’re not.”

“One of the other... _people_ did this to you. Didn’t they? What happened to your eye?”

She fell silent. Slowly, like she was doubting herself, she nodded. Her hands were shaking and her lip was quivering.

_Whatever happened, it must have been pretty fucked up to have effected her like this._

My hands curled into fists and I walked over to where she was sitting, grabbing her shoulders and moving her to the couch. Her body went limp in defeat, and her head almost rested on my shoulder; but she held it up, like she was scared I would break if she touched me on purpose.

I glared sharply at her and lightly pushed her head over from the other side. _Not on my watch. You rest your goddamn head on my shoulder as long as I live._

“Okay,” I began softly, my voice quivering slightly from anger. “You don’t have to tell me everything that happened. I...I get it. But don’t not tell me, just because you feel like I can’t handle it.”

“It’s not because of that,” she muttered, on the verge of smiling. “It’s because...you could get killed, if I tell you who did...” she cut off and sighed, as if saying the wrong word could change everything.

“This isn’t mission impossible. I’m not gonna get captured by the government over this.” I paused. “...I’m not, right?”

“No, you’re not. But right now you seem like if I tell you then you’re gonna go out and try to kill them yourself. Which would be bad.”

“Try me.”

“Jeffrey Hodek was trying to find the cabin, Alex.”


	25. Chapter 25

After hearing that name, my blood went cold.

_Jeffrey Hodek. Are you fucking kidding me?_

"So these woods are just breeding ground for you guys, huh," I muttered, my voice shaking.  _There's another serial killer out there, who's probably even more insane than her, and he's not even on my side._

"He said it wasn't like me to stay inside all the time. That it looked like I was hiding something." Natalie scoffed. "The funny thing is, I'm pretty sure he's got someone locked up in his place, too. Goddamn hypocrite."

"Probably to torture them, though."

"...well, I guess. Either way, the kind of less funny part is that this means I'll probably have to stay in even  _more._  And don't," she added, looking up at me sternly, "tell me you can defend yourself. You are a squirrel."

I almost snorted. "You keep saying that, like it's my fursona or something."

"Don't make me dump you because you're one of  _those_ people. Your life is on the line."

"Right. I take it back. Continue."

Natalie sighed and slowly stood up, facing me with crossed arms. She gestured sharply towards the left hall.

"Ever wonder why your corridor is so long, even though the actual cabin stops right here?"

I thought about it.  _I just thought I was high all this time._  "No. I...I didn't."

"This cabin is built on an incline. It's real subtle, but the further you go down the hall, it eventually winds up underground. That's why there's no windows, no nothing. Capiche?"

"Yeah. That...makes a lot more sense, actually. What's your point?"

"I don't really know anything yet, but that could be an escape route or something. In case the guy breaks in. I could barricade the hall, and you'll be able to get away. Kinda."

"Comforting."

She combed stuck hair out of her face and sighed. "It's all I've got now, okay? I just..." She paused, like she had realized something, and sighed again. "He's right. It's not like me to do things like this. I've always  _thought_  about stopping, but..."

I raised an eyebrow. "Wait, you want to stop killing people? Who  _are_  you?"

Natalie gave me a sharp sideways glance. "Please, don't. I've  _thought_ about it, that's it. Have you noticed how fucked-up and tired I've been getting now? Or did you just assume I always lay around this much?"

"...both."

"The point is, nothing's going to change  _now._  I'm pretty sure. At least. Just..." Her posture sagged a bit, like she was deflating.

"I want you to be safe. You should probably know, that Jeff...well. He's stronger than me. He's been at this for a longer time than I have, and that's saying something. The only reason I'm not dead is that I've been more than competent with a knife so far." She turned her head to fully face me, and I noticed she was squinting. She had a black eye, along with the gash. I could only really see the clock, which seemed to have stopped moving. The situation was just starting to settle in for me.

"We're both at least a little scared of each other. That's how it works for most of...them. The others."

"Wait til the fangirls find out," I sighed, trying to ease the tension.

"Jesus Christ."

"Can't you just run away?" I asked, knowing full well what the answer would be anyway. She laughed. Well, kind of.

"Nah.  _You_  could, maybe. But I'm a stationary kind of person. In case you haven't noticed, I've redecorated this place to my liking. That's 'cause I never expected there to be any other people like Hodek in such...close proximity, I guess you could say."

"Busting out the grown-up words, I see. This is serious."

"I appreciate you trying to comfort me, I really do. But you don't have to act this calm. I'm actually scared, you know." Natalie gulped, giving me a worried sideways glance.

I sighed again, pulling my knees to my chest.

"...yeah. So am I."


	26. Chapter 26

"Remember the plan, mask-boy. No talking. Avoid the leaves. The twine, pliers, whatever the fuck you have on you  _stays_  on you until I say otherwise. Once you see the little twat, stay behind me. And we are having  _pizza_  tonight, not your local Chinese garbage. We have that every night.

"Got me?"

He nodded wordlessly, and I grinned. Not like I had a choice, though.

"Great."

And we dove under the cover of the trees. The smell of acid still burned in the air. I was willing to bet good money  _she_  put it there all along, as some sort of not-so-harmless prank.

_Oh, you silly little girl. We are not friendly neighbors._

Occasionally I checked behind me to see him still following in my wake. The bottom half of his face was shrouded in shadows, so I only saw the illusion of emptiness his mask held over his eyes. It reminded me of too many things to name, and I shook myself and looked forward again.

After hours of what must have been comical speed-walking I saw a clearing and stopped in my tracks. I could almost see him trying not to run into me. I reached into my back pocket and pulled out a serrated knife, quietly stepping out into view.

There was nobody there.

Well, at least until five more minutes passed and Natalie emerged from the other side of the forest, plastic bag in hand.

_Is that from Target?_

Nevertheless, I only spoke when she was about to open the door to the cabin. It was funny watching her flinch, like she'd just been caught stealing a cookie.

"Might wanna be careful there. Don't want anybody escaping, now would we?"

She turned her heard slightly, almost looking annoyed. "The hell do you want, Jeff. I'm busy."

"Doing what? Buying  _clothes?_  Tired of that coat always weighing you down now?"

"None of your fucking business, smiley. Now go away."

I sighed and pulled the knife into clear view. "Well, that's not very polite at  _all._  And I'm not leaving until I know what's going on here. Or at least, until your little prisoner's dead."

She whirled around, drawing a cleaver respectively. "You're one to talk. You've got some new girl every week now. Don't see you just touring them around."

"But the difference is, I  _kill_ them. You've got some sort of sweetheart in that cabin of yours, I'm thinking." I sighed, and clicked my tongue. "I know you, Nats. You're not the secretive type. It's just not like you to do this." I twiddled the knife between my fingers, almost pricking one of them.

"You've got 10 seconds to let me do the job. If not, I've got a masked wonder-boy behind me who could get past you just as easy."

At that, Natalie narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. After a moment, she muttered, "You got  _Tim?_ "

"Jesus Christ—you know, nevermind. You'll see soon enough. That is, unless you wanna come to your senses soon.

"5 seconds."

She sneered, bringing her cleaver up to her chest. "Suck a dick, Hodek."

Long story short, she left me no choice. I mean, it  _is_  kind of her fault she only had one eye left.

Midway to the door, Max tapped my shoulder. "Wait. Look at the sky."

I glanced up.  _Shit. Sunrise._

"We should head back. You've scared her enough already, if you do anything more she'll never leave the cabin again."

I looked over to where she was standing. Her hand was twitching towards the doorknob. I sighed.

"Fine. You're only getting lucky, clock girl," I half-yelled in her direction, "because Max here's got twice the restraint I do. Be grateful. And  _don't_  you fucking dare tell your little girl what happened here."

Natalie's "good" eye widened as far as it could. "H-how did you kn—"

I turned around and stalked away before she could finish that thought. I gave a thankful glance at Max.

"Nice job. Guess you really  _are_  good at what you do."

"Stop talking, it's literally almost 5:00."


	27. Chapter 27

After all that happened I wasn't sure how good of an idea it was to show Natalie my drawing. I did it anyway, thinking it would be worth a laugh at how half-assed it was. I shoved the paper in her hands and stared at the floor.

"Don't worry, I'm disappointed in me too."

Once I said that, a look of confusion flashed over her face. "...what do you mean?"

My eyes snapped up and I felt my face growing hot.  _No, wait, she probably thinks I just insulted her or something. Fuck._

"I-it's just so unoriginal. I was supposed to draw something for you, so of course, I just  _drew you._ " I sighed and combed my hair back with my fingers. "I just don't really know what I was thinking with this. Sorry it looks so half-assed."

A moment of silence fell upon the room until she said softly, "No, I like it."

"What?"

"Yeah. Makes me look a little more badass than I actually am." She looked up at me, on the verge of a genuine smile. "Thanks," she added, holding my face and pulling me into a kiss. My face completely flushed, I was at a loss for words. Not that it was really a problem; I didn't exactly have to say anything at the moment.

As we pulled apart, she pressed another piece of paper against my chest. "And here's  _my_  piece of garbage. For reference," she muttered almost snidely. I held the paper up to view and saw a small drawing of a squirrel.

"You are so  _mean_ ," I laughed, holding my forehead.

"I'm sorry! I didn't want to draw you, I thought you had some shit self-esteem issues or whatever's going on in that head of yours."

"Appreciate the thought. This squirrel thing has been going on for  _months._ "

We laughed about it for a little bit more, especially considering if we stopped we'd have to think about the more heavy situation at hand. After a while, I sighed and thought anyway. About something a little bit different, though.

"So is this how relationships work? Because I had a boyfriend in college and I'm pretty sure he was only dating me because he thought it was hot that I liked girls."

Natalie winced in my honor. "Oof.  _Dump_ him."

"Natalie, I haven't seen him in 2 years. Do you think we're still together or not."

"I'm kidding."

"I know. Wait, you didn't answer my question," I added quickly. She looked at me with the most perplexed look I'd seen on her.

"Why would you ask  _me_  something like that? I'll have you know  _I_  proudly know jack-shit about relationships."

"Well, who else am I supposed to go to for advice? Jeff? Yeah, he's right outside the cabin every waking moment now but just because it's convenient doesn't mean he's my go-to gossip girl."

That made her snort. "True. Well, I guess...as long as we aren't suffering around each other, I'd say we're doing this pretty well." She smiled and kissed me again, and we spent the rest of the night worrying and laughing and worrying some more.


	28. Chapter 28

Though something felt off from then on. Understandably, considering Jeff was still at large and probably about to kick both our asses if one of us set foot outside the cabin. But I felt a strange disconnect between Natalie and me, even after we had our little heartfelt bonding moment. It was almost as if she was restraining herself. Like at any moment she was going to break down, or worst case scenario, kill me. It unsettled me, to say the least. But it also kind of hurt whenever she broke eye contact with me like it pained her to be around me. Everything constantly seemed like it was about to come crashing down.

Until it really did. At least, to me.

I was picking at what must have been a chunk of a human body with a fork when she grabbed my arm and led me out to the front hall. I noticed she finally got rid of that disgusting body sack. It still disturbed me every now and then. I stared blankly, not exactly knowing how to react when she thrust an empty plastic bag from Target at me, fixing me with a knowing stare.

I raised an eyebrow. "...what's this for?"

"You got anything in your room as of now? Paper? Pencils? Dead body?"

I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to remember if I even had anything to being with. "I don't think so. Maybe I left my phone in there."

"Good. Get packing," she said and turned away to stalk back to the clock room. I pretty much called out, confused as hell.

"Wait, so we're actually leaving? I thought you said you were...a 'stationary' person, or something. I..." I stopped short when I saw her expression.

"Yeah. I did say something like that," she muttered, sounding almost wistful. Not being the first time she got weirdly emotional, I shrugged it off.  _Sentimental for her cabin, I guess_.

I speedwalked to my room, the weight of the possible situation finally getting to me.  _This means he probably found a way inside. Or he's threatening her. Or the police are on her trail_. I scratched my arm, accidentally giving myself a small cut from the thin plastic.

Turns out I did just leave my phone there. For some reason, I looked at the ominous row of knives and felt a pang of grief.  _I'm never gonna be creeped out every night by those again_. I slowly reached up and grabbed the smallest, most portable-looking one. It was stained with rust and dried blood but that only added to the value.

As I made my way back, from far away I could see her almost ripping out her hair, which only made me more upset.  _God. She's lived here for years, and now Hodek's making her leave. That must be heartbreaking._

Walking up to her I gently asked, "Is there anything you wanna bring? I grabbed one of the knives in my room, you could do that. Or something." For good measure, I awkwardly patted her on the shoulder, and then backed up, embarrassed, as I realized she was already holding one. She gave me a cold, sharp, thoughtful look and folded her arms.

"Alright. I'll admit I should have phrased that a little better." She sighed, and pressed a hand to her forehead. "I'm sure by now you have a vague idea of how I must feel, being what I am, Alexandra. I trust you with that."

I held up a finger and nearly laughed. "Uh, okay. I'm gonna have to stop you right there. Never once in your life have you  _ever_  called me 'Alexandra'. You good?"

"Oh, that's the thing, though. I am definitely not good. Not at all. I know this sounds a little too much like me but I'm  _bored_  with this. I've been  _growing_  unentertained for the past few months. I'm sure you understand. Any little experiment like this was bound to go downhill. You know?"

I faltered. "I...don't think so. What are you talking about?"

"And to think I was considering changing. Okay, enough. Time to get to the point. You were absolutely right. I  _did_  say I'm stationary. And I'm standing by that.

" _You're_  the one who's got to go."

 

 

* * *

The knife she was holding dropped, and I saw her face grow just a tiny bit paler. "...oh."

I closed my eyes and nodded matter-of-factly.

"It's because of Jeff, isn't it. Okay. I get it. It's not safe for me to be here."

I bit my tongue before I could agree.  _No_.

I forced on a half-crazed grin and held up my hands. "Oh, no, no. Nothing like that. Well...maybe. Haven't you figured it out?"

A confused look started growing on Alex's face. It was like she almost understood what I was trying to say but was trying to deny it. After a moment, she looked melancholically at me.

"Is it that you don't like me anymore? I-I mean, I don't blame you. But you should probably get a little more information before just kidnapping someone impulsively--"

"You said 'anymore.'"

"...so?"

I pointed casually at her, narrowing my eyes calculatingly. "You said 'anymore.' Which, well, isn't quite right." I could almost hear something cracking. I couldn't tell whether it was me or her.

"So you just never really liked me at all. Is what you're saying. Everything you've ever told me was a lie?" A faint look of anger was starting to grow on her face. I stepped forward, my face twisted in a sneer.

"Yeah, babe. I was fucking  _ly-ing_. It wasn't  _real_ ," I scoffed, and twirled my knife in front of her face, watching the horror creep up into her features. I leaned towards her until our noses were almost touching. "Want me to repeat it for you?"

Her face changed, and it looked almost furious, but mostly saddened. "No thanks," she muttered, her voice almost breaking. I swallowed down the urge to kiss her one more time.

"I think I'm capable of understanding it now." She was near a whisper now, and stepped back to scratch viciously at her arm.  _Don't you fucking dare. I'm anxious enough already, you idiot_.

"Cabin in the woods. Serial killer.  _Creepypasta_." I heard her scoff at the last word, and saw that she was far from tears. Her face was pale and her eyes had dark, pitiful circles underneath them. "I'm really, really stupid, aren't I? I should have known. Or you're just that good at acting. You don't  _really_  take prisoners. You don't really spare people. You strip them of everything they have, even if there was almost nothing there to begin with."

I narrowed my eye. "...what...what are you--"

"You were keeping me for so long and I didn't know why...god, I'm so fucking  _stupid_. You had all...you have all the time in the world. I could've collapsed at any moment. But you wouldn't have cared. Just get some other prisoner to tear apart and throw in a ditch. You're not human. You have no soul. Natalie...she's gone."

I stepped closer and almost touched her face. But I withdrew. I saw that there were faint lines on her cheeks. Her face was tear stained.

"...time doesn't speed up. It doesn't slow down. It is violent."

I almost tripped over myself stepping back.

"Stop. Stop it. Stop  _fucking_  talking, or I swear to god..." I choked. "You are going to leave now. Go." I pointed towards the door, glaring. She lifted her head, and I stifled a gasp. She didn't seem to notice as she sulked over to the exit without sparing me a second glance.

"Goodbye, killer."

"Goodbye, human."


	29. Chapter 29

Yellow. Her eyes turned  _yellow_  before she left.

I couldn't dismiss it, especially because they seemed to glow in the center of her pale face. When the door slammed behind me, I put a hand to my forehead and cheek, lightly touching my stitches. Every now and then they'd come undone, and I would sew them back, enjoying the pain each time. But I felt nothing right now. I had become numb to the consecutive ticking in my eye a long time ago, but now I noticed it more than ever. I clawed at my hair, wishing for the first time in my life that it would stop. Just for a second.

But those seconds continued to  _tick_  by.

I destroyed her.

_Time is violent._

I broke her.

For days, weeks at a time, everything was normal.  _We_  were normal. She had grown used to me, and murder, and horror, and her new take on time. I thought she was somehow strong enough to handle everything. It seemed to have no effect on her. I thought it was okay.

But she was  _not_  okay.  _She was never okay, was she?_

"Shut up," I almost growled to myself. "It doesn't matter how she  _feels_."

I made my way to the mirror room. Not exactly a bathroom; just a small space with a single broken mirror in the center.

"What matters is that she won't come back."

Grabbing a small dagger, I looked at my face, even though it was painful as hell to see something like that. I glanced at the dagger in my hand, and without a second thought dug it behind the clock and pried it out of my eye socket.

I felt an unusual silence in my head. The ticking was somewhere else; in this case, my hand.

"Time does not slow down."

I gripped the glass tightly; it almost shattered in my hand. I mentally cursed, and released it suddenly, dropping it on the floor. The clatter was louder than I thought it would be.

I looked back at my bloodied face and touched my empty eye socket. She was definitely right. Natalie was gone. She would never come back, ever. But it started dawning on me that even if she was long gone, she had been there at some point. As much as it left a strange taste on my tongue to say it, I was happy. At least for a second.

I was  _human_.

I let the dagger drop to the floor as I bent down to pick the small clock back up. As I caught my reflection in the glass again, I felt like sneering, but instead I just narrowed my eyes.

I pushed the clock back into place, shifting it until it felt like it fit again.

"I am Clockwork," I breathed. "I take no prisoners. Time is ruthless and torturous..." I took a shaky breath. "As am I."

_Tick, tock. Tick, tock. Tick, tock._

* * *

_Something nagged at me that night. It felt like I forgot to lock the door, but I knew for a fact that nobody could find this cabin anyway. And no one in their right mind would try to walk inside._

_And if they weren't in their right mind, I could easily set them back straight._

_I lounged, sinking into the couch cushions and twirling the blade between my fingers. It pricked at my skin, but I didn't mind. I felt like drawing something. Maybe a flower. Or a face. But I was starting to feel too lazy to get out of the house right now._

_Something creaked in the front hall._   
_I groaned and pulled my hood up, readying myself for an intruder. Of all times. How did they even find this?_

_I narrowed my eyes at the seemingly idle doorway, trying to think. Maybe she does have someone who cares about her. This could get messy._

_"Hello...?" I heard someone murmur. I smirked, somewhat glad for some entertainment tonight. I whipped past the door and caught the intruder at the neck with my dagger silently._

_"Hello," I whispered in their ear. I grabbed their arms and secured them together behind their back, still pressing the knife._

_Without waiting for a response, I muttered in a scraping voice, "You know, it really is rude to come into someone's house while they're sleeping. Even if they are, well, under watch..."_

_I was surprised to see them not making an effort to struggle. Instead, they chuckled with difficulty and curled their hands into fists._

_"No need to treat me like just some other person, Clockwork."_

_"If you know what's good for you, you'll get out of this house. Go on."_

_"I'm a killer too!" I heard desperation in their voice, and I couldn't help but snicker. So pretentious. And rude, too._

_They continued when I stayed motionless. "I want to know...why you haven't killed that toy of yours yet."_

_"Then I want to know what damn business that is to you. To act like your own species is below you isn't impressive, despite what you may think," I growled. Christ._

_They attempted to twist their head around to face me. "I don't think you understand, Na--"_

_I dug the knife further into their windpipe, cutting them off by a series of chokes. "What were you saying, cupcake?" I seethed._

_"T-too much...maintenance...!" They choked out. I let them go. Fine._

_"I'm gonna have to demand an explanation. Do you know how much effort I put into keeping this place remote? Zero. And I plan on keeping it that way."_

_"She's not safe here. I know why you have her. But it's not safe for either of you."_

_I stifled a loud laugh. "Full offense, but how the hell would you know anything about that. I will pulverize anyone who touches her, and I have no problem doing that same with you, whoever the fuck you are."_

_"She's going to die. At some point, you or someone else will do it. It's only safe that you get rid of her now. Or..." they pulled out a knife from somewhere and made the throat-slit motion. "She could end up just like you."_

_I put a hand daintily to my mouth. "And what's wrong with being me?" Every second I looked at them, I felt the urge to turn them into a new mural growing stronger._

_"I'll put it this way," they muttered, ticking off on their fingers. "Physically mutilated. Emotionally unbalanced. Mentally...well, I could write a book. And, ah, it would be you who damages her like that," they finished, pointing at me accusingly._

_I stepped forward without a second thought and plunged the dagger into their chest, kicking them in the stomach as they collapsed. They coughed up blood and mucus, their eyes widening, and I scowled at their pitiful form before breaking out into giggles. "I thought you said you...what was it? 'Were a killer too.'"_

_I frowned when they didn't respond, and combed bloody fingers through my hair, pushing it out of my face._

_I looked back at them, and stepped on their head, crushing it with a sickening crunch. Blood droplets scattered on my clothes, and I felt cleansed. Like I had eaten a full meal after taking a long diet. My face was frozen in a smile; it brought me great joy to be Clockwork again. How heartwarming._

_"N-Natalie...?" I heard a whimper from the left hall._

_I whipped my head around. Alex had bags under her eyes and she looked almost distraught from a lack of sleep. Worry was etched into her face, but I was relieved to see that she didn't look repulsed or horrified._

_I pulled my hood back and stepped in front of the twerp's body. "Just some intruder," I assured. God, I hope I don't sound too creepy. "I'm just cleaning up the mess. It's okay."_

_She slowly nodded after a brief moment's hesitation, and backed down the hall to her room._

_"Try to get some sleep," I called out quietly._

_I turned back to the body and tapped my chin. "Better get my brush," I muttered._

_I spent the rest of the evening painting a tulip, the metallic scent keeping me awake and satisfied. I almost wished it could be purple, but with human blood, there isn't that much of a choice of range._


	30. Chapter 30

I dug around in my pocket for my phone.

No new calls. Not that much of a surprise. I still hadn't figured out who that mysterious number was--the one that contacted me twice now, asking if I was okay. It still made me scratch my skin in discomfort thinking about it; nobody in my contact list wanted anything to do with me anymore, but I still kept them. So why had it been, out of all people, someone I didn't know who was concerned about me?

And how did they know where I lived?

I checked the list again, unsure why. I came across Natalie's name, and something sunk in the pit of my stomach.

She had kicked me out. That part alone didn't really hurt. But then she claimed all she told me was a lie. That she was pretending...everything. And yet she seemed like she was about to break down in tears. She was supposed to be an emotionless killer, and she was almost crying.

That somehow didn't make it hurt less.

_Why am I sad about this? Am I really so weak that I'll cling to anyone that makes me feel wanted that much?_  
I contemplated.  _Yeah_.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair, realizing there was still coagulated blood caught in knots. My hand was soon covered in the disgusting red flakes. I narrowed my eyes and leaned against a nearby tree, still feeling no closer to home.  _We did run for about a half hour to that place._

I sank down to sit, looking around for once.  _The only times I got to be here was when I was running. I never got a chance to actually look at it._

Even though it was almost pitch black, I could make out some green and brown in the dim moonlight. It almost instantly made me forget the entire ordeal. Here I was, a normal person, having a normal nightly outing in the woods, embracing nature's gentle touch. I closed my eyes and slid my legs down to fully relax. Maybe I could just live here. It wouldn't be much different.  _I'm probably stuck here anyways, I can't find my way home..._

I heard a soft crunching of leaves, but figured it was just me shifting involuntarily. Until I smelled something burning and a sharp, familiar scent in front of my face.  _Jesus Christ. What's bleeding now?_

I opened my eyes to find another pair staring directly through me, and I instantly recognized that carved smile and leathery snow-white skin.

_Of course. These woods are infested, after all._

Though his mouth barely moved, I heard Jeff whisper, "It's pretty late now...why don't you go to sleep?"

I shielded my face with my arms and muttered immediately, "I know Natalie."

If he could've narrowed his eyes, he would have. His permanent smile curled into an attempted frown, and I almost sighed in relief when he looked confused. "Who the hell--" He paused, and furrowed his eyebrows once he remembered. "Oh, yeah. That clock girl. Yeah, I knew she was getting soft for someone. I'm sure she'll be dead real soon, though, honey. So I wouldn't worry about  _her_."

I brought my arms down and glared. "Why don't you  _care_  about her? I thought--"

"That we all got along?" He uttered incredulously, stepping back and drawing a knife, picking the grime under his nails.  _Well, not exactly._ I had the feeling he was about to burst out laughing, anyway. "Sorry to say it, hun, but that's just fucking  _stupid_." He looked back down slowly, eyeing me with hunger and bloodlust. I gulped and stood up, grabbing a sharp rock.

"Now, it would be so much easier for me if you cooperated and went to sleep," he muttered, stepping towards me and making for my throat. I quickly hurled the pebble at him, and somehow hit his eye.

_No time to get cocky_. "Well, excuse me, Hodek, but you're talking to a four-year running insomniac. I haven't had an hour's sleep in weeks, thanks to you guys. Have a little compassion," I declared with more confidence than I actually had. He twisted his head at an uncomfortable angle, apparently not enjoying my use of his surname.

"So, you little shit." He cracked his neck, causing me to flinch.  _How is his spine not disfigured like that?_ "You're one of  _those_."

Positive I knew exactly what he was talking about, I scrunched up my face. "Ew.  _Hell_  no. Especially not now. In case you didn't notice, your little friend has just evicted me, and if you think I--"

I didn't get the chance to finish; I was hit square in the jaw. Saving the poetry, I was bleeding. A lot.

The pain woke me up, and I found a large branch to chuck at his psychotic face. But what I hadn't realized was that there was already a knife to my throat, cutting off my air supply.

"Well, hate to end this now, kid, but I think we'd both better get going. You should get some well-deserved rest, dontcha think...?"

I struggled to breathe, "N-no," but suddenly I was released. I grabbed at my throat and started hacking and gasping.  _Old grounds again. Can I stop almost dying for once?_

I looked around frantically, knowing Jeff wouldn't just let me go like that. I saw part of his hoodie, on the ground thrashing a couple feet away from me. Holding a knife to his throat and looking ready to murder was


	31. The End?

"Don't  _you_  think it's time to leave my kill alone, Jeffy-boy?" She had a maniacal grin on her face, and her eye was wide open like her lids had been burned off as well.

I stayed motionless, not daring to make a sound, not even stepping on a single leaf. She stood up, backing towards me and still brandishing her knife, tip facing him. "Now get lost. Before I give you a little taste of your  _own_  fucking medicine. How about spending the rest of your days in la-la land like all your other victims?"

He stood up, infuriated, more blood dripping from his mouth than usual. "There is no way in hell I am leaving until you kill this kid yourself. She's too much trouble. She will  _so_  run to the cops, and I heard all about your problem with, ahem,  _cops_." He smirked and stepped towards us, and I felt at least somewhat safe until she turned around to face me as well, her knife not away just yet.

I took one step back, almost falling over, and coughed softly.  _She...she wouldn't. Would she...? Well, I'm pretty sure she hates me now. But why would she protect me, then?_

"One thing we can  _maybe_  agree on, asshole, is that we like things to be as convenient as possible."

_So that's a no._

I stepped back again and walked into a tree; before I could process anything, I had a knife to my neck and someone who I had almost trusted before about to do the honors.

_Well. This is it, I guess. Into the abyss I go._

_Without her..._

"Do it," Jeff said impatiently. "We both got things to do. Kids to put to sleep. Parents to torture. Gross fangirls to slaughter," he added with an understandable shudder.

"Shut up," Clockwork muttered, while still looking me dead in the eye. Her stitched smile was twitching. Her clock had a crack in it.

 _Do it_ , I found myself thinking.

Suddenly, her psychotic expression melted, and she gave me a sharp glare that communicated,  _You know what to do._

I widened my eyes.  _I really don't...?_

Before I could think about what she could mean with that single look, the skin on my neck was sliced with a sharp movement, and I let out a sharp squeak of pain before crumbling to the floor.

_Well, now I know._

I kept my eyes wide open, even though the soil of the forest floor stung. I didn't move a muscle, even though my heart was beating out of my chest. It took every ounce of willpower to keep my fingers from twitching, my throat from contracting.

_I'm alive._

"That was  _not_  bloody enough," I heard Jeff scoff. "You really--"

" _Please_ , Hodek. She's such a weak thing. I should know," she interrupted disdainfully, as if the mere thought of me disgusted her more than any mutilated corpse.

"Are you sure she's not still alive," he reinforced exasperatedly, and I heard footsteps coming toward me. I almost jumped up and ran for it, but I had no choice but to stay still.

"No need to check. It's  _done_ ," she growled. "Now move. Scram. Kindly  _piss off_."

I heard an annoyed grunt, and suddenly everything was silent.

After a couple more minutes, she said gruffly, "You can get up now if you want, you little shit."

I immediately lifted myself off the ground and dug whatever I could out of my eyes. It stung more by the second.  _Jesus_.

After about a minute, I looked up at her, ready to give some sort of heartfelt thanks for her literally saving my life, but she was looking at the sky. Her teeth were clenched, her fists were balled up, and even in the dark I could see she was sweating profusely.

"You  _lied!_ " She yelled into the air. I shuffled back, my nerves becoming jumpy.

"You knew this would happen. You fucking knew!  _I should have skinned you alive!_ " She was almost screeching. Her voice was hoarse and tears beaded around her eyes.

I blew out slowly, and cautiously took a small step closer. "Nata--"

"It's  _Clockwork_  to you, dipshit," she growled. I sealed my lips, gulping down sobs before they surfaced.

* * *

_It's over. We can't even know each other now._

When she twirled back around almost smoothly and made her way towards me, I nearly jumped. I blinked several times before weakly stuttering, "I-I was going to go straight--He just c-came at--I mean, I cou--"

"Please, go. I'll walk you home if you're that stupid. Just...please. You're not safe." Her voice was cracked and filled with thinly-veiled rage.

For some reason, I couldn't help but feel guilty for letting myself be assaulted.

I looked down and tried not to let the tears leave my eyes. "I'm sorry," I croaked. My shoulders started silently heaving, and my stomach was churning.

Before long I was folded into a bone-crushing hug, and I stayed slack and empty.

Natalie started sobbing, and I squeezed my eyes tight and mumbled "I'm so sorry," over and over into her shoulder.

Eventually, she whispered, "Don't be  _sorry._  I--" she stayed silent for a moment. "God, I'm so fucking awful. I'm messed up. I broke you. I left you. I almost  _killed_  you. I  _let_  you break. I--"

I curled my hands into fists and hugged her back, shutting her up. "I love you. So much. God knows why, but..." I trailed off and buried my face into her soft jacket. The fur coating the edge was almost suffocating me, but I couldn't care less.

I felt her kiss my neck softly, grinning suddenly. "Oh my god, this is so weird."

I lifted my head up and kissed her on the lips. Because, screw it.

_I'll probably never see her again. It's only fair._

She let go of me and placed her hands on my face, pulling me closer. I could taste the tears on both of our faces, which seems weird, but it added sentimental value, okay?

As we pulled apart, I felt an icy emptiness in my stomach, and my face sobered.

"Can I really not call you Natalie anymore...?" I asked quietly.

Her eyes widened, and she shook her head frantically. "No, no no no no. You--I...I was...I'm sorry," she murmured, hugging me again gently. She whispered, "Please don't call me  _Clockwork_."

"Do I just call you, 'hey you'?" I muttered, trying to suppress a smile.

She gave me an odd look, then rolled her eyes. "Oh my god, you are  _dense._ " Her expression remained soft, though. "What do you think."

I stayed silent, unsure what to say next.

She heaved a sigh and stepped back slowly. "It...would only be safe if you went back home.  _Your_  home. Without me. And I really want you to stay with me..." she glanced down, kicking a leaf to the side. "...but I can't force you to do anything. Not anymore, at least."

I cocked my head sideways.  _I know she's not trying to, but..._

"You  _do_  realize I have nothing at home, right?" I started ticking off on my fingers. "No friends, no family, no real job...sure, I have some belongings back at my apartment, but they really don't mean anything to me."

She looked up, her face etched with confusion. "Does that...are you sayi--"

"Okay, so  _I'm_ dense?" I cracked a joking grin and leaned back against the tree. I glanced up for a split second, and caught a glimpse of the purple-orange sky. Something warm was shining on my face, and my smile faltered.

"In any case, we should probably head back before something spots us," I muttered, moving back towards the dark forest center. Without waiting for a response, I grabbed Natalie's hand and started speed-walking.

She followed me, eventually catching up and throwing an arm around my shoulders as we made our way back to the cabin.


End file.
